


With An Open Mind (The Heuristic Side of the Force)

by Lazaraes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 81,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazaraes/pseuds/Lazaraes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke may want to be a True Jedi, but being raised on an unforgiving desert-planet that is oppressed by Hutt gangsters can make even the most sheltered and optimistic child somewhat cynical. Alternatively: Where Luke realizes that the teachings of the Jedi and the Sith are 80% Complete Banthashit, and tries to find his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hindsight

With An Open Mind (The Heuristic Side of the Force)

_Luke may want to be a True Jedi, but being raised on an unforgiving desert-planet that is oppressed by Hutt gangsters can make even the most sheltered and optimistic child somewhat cynical._

_Alternatively: Where Luke realizes that the teachings of the Jedi and the Sith are 80% Complete Banthashit, and tries to find his own way._

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Scrutiny

Looking back on it sometimes, Luke realized that meeting the self-styled "Ben" Kenobi while he was likely concussed probably went a long way towards his willingness to listen to the man's short explanation about the Force with any level of consideration when it was first brought up.

Maybe it was because of how he was introduced to the concept of the Dark Side directly after being told about Darth Vader, who he was told at the time was the murderer of his father, but whatever the reason he had over time come to associate the Dark Side as not just something to avoid, but something to hate and fear.

Hate and fear wouldn't have been an issue for a non-force-sensitive, and had he been an ordinary denizen of Tatooine it would have been entirely normal, but he was not, and the consequences reached much further than he could have realized at the time.

And then without even the standard explanation to differentiate the Dark and the Light he had returned to the homestead only to be met with the unreality of the skeletal remains of Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen.

He had reacted as many sentients would have in that situation.

_Desperation. Denial. Horror. Pain. Anger. Self-disgust. RAGE._

If the Imperials had been there at that point he still didn't know what he would have done, but they were not, and the anger burned itself out until guilt ate at him instead.

_Helplessness. Sorrow._

When he returned to Kenobi all he knew was that being a Jedi would mean the ability to fight back, and the power to protect what he cared about; neither of which, he now knew, were very Jedi-like at all. Even now with all that he had learned he had to acknowledge that under it all the very _human_ part of him had wanted to _make them pay._ It was a wonder that Ben didn't notice.

Sometimes when he was feeling pessimistic he wondered if Ben _had_ noticed and had chosen to do nothing. After all, he had a big hand in trying to pit him against the man he now knew to be his father. If they were grooming him to be a weapon then what was a little resentment and vengeful anger in the scheme of things?

Luke tried not to think ill of the dead, but it was hard sometimes, especially when he came to understand that Kenobi had allowed himself to be killed all that time ago on the Death Star. The elderly man's death at the Sith's hand had been something which had only stoked his intent against the Dark Lord at the time, and a part of Luke that he didn't particularly like suspected that had been the old Jedi's intent.

Luke tried not to be a cynic, he really did, but experience mixed with a strong dose of Tatooine upbringing had done some serious damage to his optimism.

Because maybe if Old Man Kenobi had put more effort into explaining how the different sides of the Force work instead of showing off to an ignorant farm-boy, and being deliberately vague before he died for reasons he kept to himself, Luke wouldn't be in the situation he was in now.

Introspection

When Luke had first met Master Yoda, he had not only just travelled to an unknown planet for reasons he didn't understand at the time, he had also managed to crash-land his ship and nearly lose his droid to the fauna native to Dagobah in the process. With the aggravated agitation he was probably radiating at the time, it really came as no surprise to him now that the ancient creature had approached him the way he had. Not that it had stopped him from thinking that Yoda had been hitting the local equivalent of a Spice pipe at the time.

After learning more about the Jedi teachings over time Luke had to wonder what Yoda had been thinking taking him as a pupil even with his and Kenobi's insistence. Not that he wasn't grateful obviously, but he had a feeling that the strongly traditional Jedi had been more desperate that anything when he resigned himself to taking a highly emotional twenty-two year old as a student.

"Anger, fear, aggression, the Dark Side are they," Luke remembered hearing more than once from the small creature as he fought his way through the humidity that he was so unused to as a desert dweller. As someone raised away from the Jedi teachings he had always had a hard time processing and assimilating the idea that emotions could so easily ruin a sentient. He understood it on a conceptual level, but he had difficulty in its application. Ridding himself of emotions was a completely foreign idea to him due to his upbringing after all. Whenever he showed doubt, however, he was reminded of the terrible things that the use of the Dark Side could cause. Nearly as often he was also reminded that the man he had been told had killed his father was a user of the Dark Side, and so his unconscious hostility towards the Dark Side grew.

Yoda's quick response to his question about the strength of the other side of the Force, denying that the Dark Side was stronger, had done a lot in the way of reassuring him that learning the ways of the Jedi and the Light Side was the right thing despite the conflict he felt about ridding himself of his emotions, but looking back the response had almost been too quick.

Luke sometimes still wondered why.

"But how am I to know the good side from the bad?" Luke had asked in uncertainty when Yoda said that the Dark Side flowed more easily. The idea was horrifying to him at the time because of his growing loathing towards the Dark Side.

"You will know," the aged creature had said, and that answer had haunted him since that time.

Because sometimes by the time you know it's already too late.

Disenchantment

Master Yoda and Ben's reaction to him trying to save Han and Leia had gone a long way towards pushing him away in a literal and figurative sense. The more they talked, the more convinced he became that Han and Leia were going to die, and the more convinced he became that Yoda and Ben were acting heartless.

He had resented it.

At the time he had wondered how they could be so callous, but now he knew it was just what they were taught. As members of the extinct Jedi Order they had believed in no attachments, and not allowing emotion of any type to sway their judgment. They believed themselves to merely be vessels through which the Force could interact with the living world.

Kenobi may have thought differently back when he still went by Obi-wan, but time, circumstance, and loss, had caused the man to fall back deeply into the Order's teachings. After all, he had seen what attachment and emotion could do.

Revelation

Often when he thought back to that day he found himself sinking further and further into the moment until it was as if he were still there experiencing it again. The past and the present whirled wildly until past experience and current observation became one and the same.

On Bespin the first impression that Luke remembered having of the man he thought responsible for his father's death, and knew to be responsible for Han and Leia's pain, was that standing on top of the stairs in the dark room he struck an imposing silhouette.

_Fear, quickly reined in with a titanic effort and animosity towards his own weakness. He would not allow himself to fear this man._

It was certainly not a state of calm that sent him across the room and up the stairs to meet with the still _very_ imposing man, and it was definitely not out of self defense that he took an aggressive stance, drew and ignited his light-saber, and swung first before continuing to attack the Sith Lord aggressively, his emotions turbulent.

_Hostility. Anxiety. Resentment. Worry. How dare this monstrous behemoth harm his friends?_

Yet the Dark Lord parried every attack.

_Frustration._

Funny how quickly frustration turns into anger.

Even when the Sith drew attention towards his emotions and goaded him to release his anger, exactly what Yoda had warned him against, he had found himself unable to care about calming down. Adrenaline ran through him, and his mind zeroed in on the idea of getting back at the man that had caused him so much emotional pain. He found himself experiencing some level of tunnel vision as he followed the large man doggedly from one room to another, allowing himself to be further trapped by yet another door.

It was only when Vader went on the offensive that Luke realized how much the man had been toying with him. He abandoned all attempts at technique just trying to dodge the various projectiles flying at he was thrown out of the window it was almost a reprieve, even as his stomach felt like it was going to drop out of his boots when he looked down at the fall that he had almost taken. He was lucky he hadn't lost his light-saber then.

Luke clambered up and drew in a breath, slightly calmer than he had been. He looked around and contemplated cutting his way through a wall and attempting to escape from what he now realized was an already lost fight, but just as quickly concluded that the dark presence he was learning to distinguish despite his incomplete training would not allow him to get away. He gritted his teeth and made his way out on to the platform that led to the single covered area that projected out across the abyss, subconsciously trying for stealth as he moved closer towards the dark flame, even knowing that his own presence was probably lighting him up like a beacon.

Luke darted across the entrance to the hallway and stifled a gasp as he felt dark flames licking out towards him and drawing him in.

_Demanding Want. Impatience. Pride. Curiosity. Apprehension._

He found himself warily wandering down the hall almost without thinking about it, the invisible flames almost searing in their intensity before they were abruptly snapped away as if they realized he could feel them. Suddenly he couldn't sense the Sith anywhere.

He distinctly remembered thinking bitterly, ' _I wish I could do that,'_ before the Force _screamed_ at him and he dodged down and backwards instinctively, igniting his light-saber moments after the snap-hiss of Vader's own. Unlike at the beginning of this whole debacle _he_ was now the one retreating with each heavy strike that he managed to parry or dodge from the enormous man. He fought with the desperation of one that knew they were being cornered.

When he hit the ground with the red beam of light aimed unshakingly at his chest his first thought was despair. He was going to lose to the man that had killed his father. Had killed Ben. Had tortured his friends. Had probably sent the troops to kill his Aunt and Uncle.

Luke refused to accept that.

' _Beaten? Useless to resist?'_ He seethed as his thoughts echoed Vader's words, and the Dark Lord's own mention of Ben's death caused his determination to flair, animosity lighting his face in a snarl as he batted away the red beam with his own blue one, rolling to stand at the first moment he had an opening. The short but quick exchange that followed culminated in him landing a glancing strike to his opponent's right shoulder before he backed away again suddenly finding himself engulfed in the ethereal inferno that Vader was no longer bothering to contain.

_Fury. Outrage. Chagrin. Self-scolding._

It was enough to distract him so that he barely dodged under the first swing that took out part of the structure standing beside him. It definitely distracted him from the slightly intricate disarming move the Sith executed that took his hand in addition to his light-saber.

He couldn't even hear himself screaming over the roar that was rushing through his ears as the pain nearly made him black out. He grabbed the stump of his arm without thinking causing the pain to spike further as he collapsed to the small platform. He gripped a railing support with his left hand, his knuckles turning white as he tucked his right arm up against himself, the severe pain mounting with every movement. Dark flames from the other man swirled around him twisting amongst his pain and into his mind almost deliberately as if trying to show him something.

_Regret. Acceptance. No more running. No more fighting. Listen. Anticipation._

"There is no escape," the voice boomed. The next sentence came with a feeling that was almost like pleading if a Sith were capable of such a thing, though the vocoder gave nothing away, "Don't make me destroy you."

Luke began to push himself away from the being that had caused him so much torment. It may not help him in the long run, but any distance he could put between himself and the dark man was better than none.

"Luke, you do not yet realize your importance. You've only begun to discover your power! Join me, and I will complete your training! With our combined strength, we can _end_ this destructive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy."

His ire rose as the Dark Lord continued to talk, blooming into anger the more the man said, helping him to ignore the agony that was pulsing down his arm. As if he would even consider training with this horrible creature. The thought exploded into words almost without his consent, his now instinctive hatred for the Dark Side like acid on his tongue as it mixed with his anger at what Vader had done to the ones he cared about, "I'll _never_ join you!"

"If only you knew the power of the Dark Side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

"He told me enough," Luke grit out bitterly as he tried to maneuver himself still further away. "He told me _you_ killed him," his voice came out strained from pain, yet with an underlying growl of emotion.

Luke felt like the dark figure was scrutinizing him as he drew out his next sentence slowly, "No, _I_ am your father."

Luke's breath caught in his chest, not quite comprehending what had been said for a moment that felt like eternity. Then it all hit him at once.

_Shock. Denial. Horror. This had to be a cruel joke._

"No. No!"he practically whimpered. His voice picked up strength and then finally cracked "That's not true! _That's impossible!"_

"Search your feelings; you know it to be true," the large man stated emphatically. Luke looked into the bulbous eyes of the helmet that had haunted him ever since Dagobah and felt something inside of him and all around him slide into place, the dark flames that danced around them both suddenly far more clear to him than before.

_Anticipation. Excitement. Finally the truth. Possessiveness._

He wasn't sure at what point it started, but his fierce one worded thought of denial was eventually vocalized in a horrified roar that petered off weakly.

_Hopelessness._

"Luke, you can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny!" The idea struck through everything and for a timeless second everything froze. Against everything he knew he contemplated the idea. To kill the Emperor…

Vader's words from earlier echoed through his mind temptingly, ' _With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy.'_ He would be a hero… just like his fath-. The thought stopped abruptly as reality slapped him in the face again. He knew the stories. Vader - his father he forced himself to think - was a mass murderer of the worst sort.

So. To kill the Emperor… and do what?

"Join me, and together, we can rule the galaxy as father and son!" Luke backed further away and began to look down at the gaping abyss beneath him gauging it. He couldn't do this. Not right now. His longing for a father conflicted painfully with the truth. His want to end the Emperor was warping with the possibility that his… father had offered. It was more tempting than it should be.

Yoda's words echoed back to him,' _You would destroy all for which they have fought, and suffered.'_

He looked up at the man that was the cause of the tempest going on in his mind with sudden determination. If he fell he could attempt to redirect himself with the Force. If he died at least he wouldn't have to deal with this mess he tried to tell himself in grim humour.

His father appeared to pick up on his intentions as he reached out towards him imploringly, "Come with me. It is the only way."

_Desperation. Pleading. Intense Fear of Loss._

Luke looked down one last time into the yawning abyss and let go with silent focus. Before he was able to reach terminal velocity the winds began buffeting him towards one side of the pit and with all the focus he had he re-directed himself towards a hole in the wall. As soon as he hit a section of the tunnel he lost all focus on the Force and began to focus on slowing his descent, tears rolling down his face unbidden as he continuously banged his severed wrist against the walls.

By the time he had finished his descent and found himself hanging from a weathervane below the massive belly of Cloud City over a fall much further than the one he had just taken he was seriously beginning to regret his decision to let go. What was left of his wrist hurt, his face hurt, he had banged himself up badly on the way down, and his legs and one functional arm and hand were giving out on him. He could feel his father above him and knew that if that was the case, then the other man could feel him and knew he wasn't dead. He had called for Ben already with no answer, and for some reason he didn't understand he had called for Leia in desperation. For a moment he had thought he had felt something like acknowledgement, but it was gone so quickly he wasn't sure it was real.

As he hung helplessly he felt his father move to what he assumed was a shuttle and leave the floating city. He had almost expected the man to come and retrieve him from where he was. At the time he had wondered off-handedly what the man was planning, but was quickly distracted by his tiring legs and his increasingly precarious position. Later he realized that his father had probably sensed he would be saved.

Then he saw the Millennium Falcon heading towards him. Relief swept through him and when the hatch on the top opened revealing a man he had momentarily seen with Leia before she had been dragged away earlier, he dropped down limply as the last dregs of his strength drained away.

Leia escorted him to a bunk, half dragging him, and when they reached it he collapsed on it. He didn't think he had ever been more tired in his life.

As the ship rocked from being struck by beams of energy he felt dark tendrils of flame reach almost gently for him and a smooth tenor voice echoed in his mind, far different from the voice produced by the vocodor.

' _Luke.'_

He jerked slightly at the oddity of the voice and spoke a single word instinctively in response to the warm, but somehow not damaging flames, "Father!"

' _Son,'_ the voice continued, wreaths of tempered flame almost caressing him, and he fought against a soul deep yearning to sink into the embrace. The Force bound them together as father and son in a way that nothing else could.

_Possess. Protect. Mine. An almost tenderness._

' _Come with me.'_

Again he found himself considering something he shouldn't.

He sank backwards onto the bunk staring blankly towards the ceiling unseeing, "Ben. Why didn't you tell me?" The ship rocked. The moment was broken.

He couldn't be alone right now. He struggled to stand and make his way to the cockpit to be with the others. When he made it to them he nodded at the other man, though he still didn't know his name, before he found himself staring at the massive Super Star Destroyer that dwarfed the freighter. "It's Vader," he said, voice resigned, though neither Leia nor the other man seemed surprised.

The dark coils that had never really left seemed to tighten around him possessively and the voice echoed in his head again making him tense.

' _Luke. It is your destiny.'_

His shoulders slumped and he spoke, barely more than a pained whisper, and completely inaudible to anyone else in the chaos going on, "Ben. Why didn't you tell me?"

_Despair._

Then the ship jumped to lightspeed and he could feel the coils being ripped away almost painfully, leaving with him an unsettling feeling of loss.

 


	2. Reprieve

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don’t recognize probably also belongs to them._

 

Reprieve

_Haven Base_  
_Location: Arbra_  
_System: Arbran_  
_Sector: Bon’nyuw-Luq  
_ _Region: Outer Rim Territories_

 Haven Base was a hive of activity as alarm klaxons sounded nearly drowning out the sounds of the controlled chaos occurring throughout the bunker. Leia stood silently observing in the Command Centre as the occupants of the base went through its bi-weekly evacuation drill, a headset allowing her to hear communications as they occurred despite the near-deafening background sound. She really would have to commend the tech department for the modifications they had been working on with the headset comlinks. They had managed to find a way to alter them so that louder noises were minimized, though not erased, and lower sounds such as vocals were amplified so that they could be easily heard. While the technology had been around in the greater galaxy for several years now, the Alliance didn’t have easy access to such resources and had to come up with their own variants as they were able.

 She cycled through several comm-channels listening to the progress in satisfaction as she watched the view screens that correlated with the channels. When she reached the channel designated to the pilots and ground-crew she found herself in the middle of a colourfully worded rant by a clearly irate maintenance worker. She paused on the channel and focused on the screens showing hangar bay with a smile as a ranting pilot snapped right back at the other. Trust the pilots and mechanics to find time to bicker and banter in the middle of the bi-weekly drill.

“You son of a nerf-herder! See if I fix your kriffing landing gear when you crash-land _again_ Janson!” the obviously female voice hissed over the link.

 “Ouch. It was only one time Talamiin, cut me some slack!” He yelped and Leia could see him dodging away from the fiery woman who chased after him in a hovering chair, a welder raised in her angry fist.

 “Cut you some slack?! You just snapped off the cannon housing that I was trying to weld back on after _you_ knocked it loose while doing standard perimeter patrol!” The woman shrieked incredulously.

 Leia heard several of the others on the floor laughing at them even as they rushed around trying to continue with the procedures they were supposed to be completing.

 Janson released a rather unmanly wail as she finally caught up with him and started swatting at him. “Alright! Alright Tal! You win! I’m sorry!”

 She harrumphed and backed off, turning to head back and continue what she had been doing when he muttered, “Besides, if I didn’t break it you’d have nothing to do and you’d be bored.”

 She turned on him with a growl and he darted off to continue working, “Fine! I’ll just shut up!”

 Leia chuckled and was about to switch channels again when something caught her attention in one of the hangar screens. A single blonde figure moved smoothly through the disarray looking intently at a datapad ignoring everything around him. Leia watched as he effortlessly dodged around boxes and over and under tangles of wires that snaked across the floor and hung through the air like vines without once looking up. A shiver ran up her spine which she quickly suppressed.

 Luke.

 As time had passed since the rescue at Bespin her friend had progressively moved less and less like an awkward farm-boy and more and more like something not quite human. It was unnerving she had to admit as she watched him side-step a male twi’lek’s swinging lekku without pausing or even acknowledging that he had narrowly avoided being unintentionally smacked in the face.

 It was only when a stack of military grade containers that one of the deck-crew was pushing across the large space on a hover-cart began to teeter on the brink of collapse that Luke’s head snapped up. Leia squinted and her mouth dropped in horror. Each of the containers was labeled in large Basic characters that read EXPLOSIVE. Luke shot forward with his right hand raised, the datapad held firmly against his side with his left hand, and even while he was yards away the metal crates stilled and then tilted back, resettling in a still precarious stack.

 Leia heard him release a breath before he spoke, “Here, let me help you restack that.”

 The human pushing the cart had visibly paled on the screen and a shuddered breath crossed the comm-channel, “That was way too close. Thank the Force you were here, you saved us.”

 Luke hunched in on himself flexing his right hand as was his new habit. It was almost as if he needed to remind himself that the mechanical hand was still there, “I didn’t do anything special. I was just trying to help.”

 Leia shook her head to herself. Luke used to embrace and almost bask in praise, but that was another thing that had changed since Bespin. Now he acted like it pained him. Unnerving changes or not this was still Luke, and his self-esteem clearly needed a boost. She clicked the microphone on the headset on and spoke for the first time during the drill in a kind yet chastising tone, “That was a good save Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, and don’t even try to convince yourself it wasn’t. Those containers could have very well blown up half the hangar if they fell wrong.”

 His head jerked up and he looked unerringly at the exact camera that she was focusing on even though it was designed to be nearly invisible. Despite being on opposite sides of the base it felt like he was staring straight into her eyes. Another shiver slid up her spine before she could stop it.

 “Hello Princess Organa,” he commented dryly matching her formal address with his own. An unknown person on the channel cursed with the realization that they were being monitored. “We were not aware you were gracing us with your attention. I apologize for anything unprofessional you may have heard.”

 “Hello Luke,” she replied, the warm smile she received through the monitor was worth the breach of protocol and she found herself relaxing. “I assure you that our flight staff being comprised mostly of hooligans is in no way a surprise to me,” she continued lightly, her smile clearly audible in her voice.

 His responding chuckle was interspersed throughout several others’ laughter.  

 “Now that we’ve narrowly avoided blowing ourselves to kingdom come _yet again_ I guess we should get back to what we’re supposed to be doing, especially since we’re being watched, eh Commander?” Antilles’ voice cut through the laughter.

 “Right Wedge, let’s get a move on guys. We don’t want to finish behind intelligence _again_ do we?” Luke admonished, a joking tone entering his voice.

 Leia smiled to herself as she watched them get back to work with renewed vigor. Luke quickly finished whatever he had been doing on his datapad before he yanked his orange flight-suit up from his waist and onto his arms. As he quickly took command of the situation Leia nodded in satisfaction. Whatever funk he had been sliding into had been pushed away at least for the moment.

 As they approached the end of the drill she and the others in the Command Centre began fielding flight codes and exit trajectories, and after several more minutes of the intense evacuation simulation Mon Mothma nodded towards one of the people at the console. He flipped several switches and entered a code before the alarm klaxons went suddenly silent leaving their ears ringing from a lack of background noise.

 Mon hit several buttons on the main communications system and typed her personal code in that over-rode the various comm-channels with hers.

 

Luke looked up as Mon Mothma’s voice broke through the sudden silence.

 “Congratulations everyone, we’ve managed to decrease our projected evacuation time by five minutes this time. You should be proud of yourselves. Once you have returned everything to its normal status you are free to return to your daily tasks. As always we will be reviewing the situation and will be debriefing each division separately later today. As you were.”  

 He allowed himself a grin as he slid out of the cockpit of his X-wing and dropped to the floor ignoring the ladder in favour of bracing himself against the drop with the Force. He landed lithely and made his way over to Wedge’s X-wing. He watched as his friend clambered down the ladder and hit the ground beside him. “You do a good job of keeping everyone in line,” he commented lightly as Wedge slid the helmet off of his head and shook his short hair out.

 Wedge laughed and threw the helmet back into the cockpit, “Yeah right. The Princess was right calling us a bunch of hooligans. Sometimes it feels like we have to control children.”

 Luke burst into mirth fueled snickers, “I know what you mean. I thought Janson and Tal were either going to explode into a fist fight or start making out in the middle of an evac drill.”

 “HEY! I HEARD THAT!” An angry female voice echoed around the hangar and they heard the whirr of her hover-chair as it moved towards them.

 “Oh dear. I think she heard you,” Wedge commented, levity in his voice.

 “I think you’ve been taking lessons in stating the obvious from C-3PO,” Luke commented sarcastically as he began backing away from the direction the angry female mechanic was coming from.  

 “No need to be so harsh Luke,” Wedge replied in a wounded voice before noticing him backing away. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

 Luke looked at him incredulously, “There are a handful of people on this base that I feel are dangerous to be around when they’re angry. Leia is highest on my list. Talamiin is a strong second. In fact, I think she’s part nexu,” he jokingly confided despite continuing to back away.

 Wedge looked at him with his eyebrows raised, “Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous.”

 Luke tensed and suddenly darted off leaving Wedge confused for a moment before Tal came barreling around the corner in a sudden burst of acceleration, her welding torch raised, and given the glowing white metal, most definitely turned on.

 Wedge audibly gulped as she roared, “GET BACK HERE AND FACE ME LUKE SKYWALKER!”

 He decided it was time to make himself scarce.

* * *

 

 Luke sat on a durasteel catwalk with his legs dangling over the edge as he looked around the large hangar feeling oddly comfortable on his perch. He had always been drawn to higher elevation, likely the pilot in him, and despite the events on Cloud City that had not changed.

He had managed to shake the angry woman by doubling back and monkeying his way up a nearby ladder. Some might have thought the tactic unfair to the handicapped woman, but he knew otherwise. He shuddered visualizing her pulling herself up the ladder with nothing but the strength of her arms before continuing to pursue him. He shook his head. That wasn’t something he wanted to entertain the possibility of, and he figured it was a good thing she hadn’t thought to look up for him yet.  

 He slumped backwards, using his right hand to hold him up, subconsciously knowing it would support him better, and reached into his flight-suit that he had never bothered to take off. He tugged the datapad he had been reading earlier out of an inner pocket before leaning back forward and resting his chest against the lower railing bar, his arms held out in front of him as he turned the device’s screen back on using his thumb-print.

  _‘People usually use their dominant hand’s thumb-print, but given your… situation…’ the Intelligence Officer began._

  _‘My left will have to suffice,’ Luke interrupted harshly, ‘I understand.’ He flexed his mechanical hand reflexively and forced himself to bury his bitterness._

 Luke shook his head and jerked his mind back to the present. The drill had done a good job of distracting him, but now that he was alone again without something to do he was slipping.

 He quickly opened up the file he had been perusing when the evacuation drill had started.

  _Restricted Access_  
_Security Level 3 Required  
__Data File: NR6-3258U_

  _User Verification: Commander Luke Skywalker - Access Level 2_  

_Quarry Base_  
_Location: Allyuen_  
_System: Allyuen_  
_Sector: Greater Javin; Anoat  
_ _Region: Outer Rim Territories; Western Reaches_

  _Status: Unknown as of 3 ABY (38:6:7)_

 According to what he had read this was one of the locations that the Empire had released probe droids on in an attempt to find their main base on Hoth.

 He scrolled down the document and picked up where he had left off on it.

  _“Intelligence shows that the_ Stalker _, an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, now known to be part of Darth Vader’s Death Squadron was responsible for the probe that located Echo-Base on the planet Hoth. Because Quarry Base was located in a nearby sector a single warning communiqué was made to it as the Hoth System was evacuated.”_

 His insides lurched at the mention of Vader, but he chastised himself. He couldn’t go around overreacting at every mention of the man he still had a hard time thinking of as his father.

_“It is unknown whether the contact was intercepted at that time; however an encrypted acknowledgement was received by_ Home One _operatives between one of the several hyperspace jumps it made after the battle._

  _It was assumed that Quarry Base had gone to ground with enforced comm silence, however in the three months that have passed, no further information was received._

  _At 15:06 hours Alliance Standard Time (AST) exactly three months and four standard days after the Base went dark a distress signal was sent out and picked up by an Alliance frigate codenamed_ Resolve _. The signal was then transmitted to intelligence on Haven Base and examined._

  _Conclusions reached: The encoding has not been tampered with, however it is out of date correlating with their lack of communication for the last three months.”_

 Luke closed the file and allowed himself to slump forward on the rail, his arms dangling in front of him as he stared blankly at the ground below him. So there had been another base near Hoth. Back then he hadn’t known because they were so worried about keeping all base locations as secret as possible and his security clearance had only been level 4 at the time. Now he was level 2 and expected to discuss the situation in a command staff meeting later as representative of Rogue Squadron in addition to his position of Lieutenant Commander. So much had changed.

 He placed the datapad on the grating beside himself and allowed himself to flop backwards with a weary sigh, covering his eyes with his arm.

  _‘You deserve it Luke! You’ve done so much for us, you’re a hero!’_ Leia’s insistent words reverberated through his mind. _‘I was the one who suggested it in the first place Luke. You saved me. You saved us all. Entire planets! And that was before you even had any real battle experience. You’ve come so far Luke. Don’t try and tell me you don’t deserve this.’_

 The words repeated over and over twisting and altering until he suddenly realized it had become a mixture of his father’s mental voice and the deep voice produced by his vocodor.

  _Don’t try and tell me you don’t deserve this._

_You’ve come so far Luke._

_You deserve it Luke!_

_Come with me. It is the only way._

_Join me, and together, we can rule the galaxy as father and son!_

_Luke, you can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny!_

  _It is your destiny._

_Your destiny._

  _Two proton torpedoes rocketed forward with precision that could only be lent by the force. Luke peeled away and was slammed forward by the aftershock as the moon-sized terror suddenly exploded in a brilliant flash of light. Elation flooded through him only to be doused as if he had been dropped into a snowbank on Hoth._

  _He didn’t remember this feeling. He curled in on himself as the cockpit of his X-wing faded away. He had never been so cold in his life. And then it started._

  _Hundreds of thousands, no, over a million voices screaming at once, so loud it was a deafening roar._

  _Pain. Shock. Horror. Regret. Fear._

  _He had always avoided thinking about it, but here it was being thrown in his face. He hadn’t just blown up a weapon. He had killed more people than he had probably ever seen in his life._

  _Arms grabbed him and began to pull him down further until he felt like he was drowning in the cold darkness._

  _My family!_

_My wife!_

_My children!_

  _So many lives ruined. So many that would never see a loved one again. So many that had only made the mistake of joining the military, something that he himself had nearly done years ago._

  _Regret tormented him and he thrashed helplessly against the steely grip of the dead._

  _Suddenly Leia’s voice filtered through it all, ‘Don’t forget Luke. That battle station would have killed billions every time it fired at a planet. You had to do it.’_

  _You had to do it._

_Had to do it._

_HAD TO._

  _Warmth began to build in him, countering the cold that the dead had brought to him._

  _‘I had to do it,’ he mentally snapped and he was finally able to snatch his mechanical hand free from the grasping hands. He began prying himself free with a nearly feral growl._

  _‘DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!’ He bellowed at the unhearing shadows, ‘I HAD NO CHOICE! I HAD TO KILL YOU ALL!’_

  _He finally tugged free and glared at the retreating shadows as he panted from exertion._

  _His father’s two voices echoed through his mind, the dual vocals snapping him out of his blind rage, ‘It is your destiny.’_

  _Luke jerked back in horror at the realization of how he was acting and began shaking his head in denial. ‘No. NO. **NO!** ”_

 Luke awoke to the sound of himself screaming in denial as sweat poured out of his pores.

He had crushed the datapad in his mechanical hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um… well this is unexpected. I have no idea where this came from to be honest, especially so soon after writing a chapter. Inspiration kind of just grabbed on to me and wouldn’t let me go. Violent thing, inspiration.  
> Somehow I think I may actually be able to continue this story, the idea is dragging me in and I’m actually excited for it.  
> Again, if you find any mistakes feel free to let me know. I’m remain un-beta’d for the moment.


	3. Contradiction

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don’t recognize probably also belongs to them._

 

Contradiction

Clouds of steam billowed around Luke as he stepped out of the shower room. The cuffs of his forest green pants dragging slightly on the damp floor as he padded over to the line of sinks with his towel slung over his shoulder. When he reached the one that he had left his belongings beside he turned to the mirror and ran his towel over his damp locks tousling it again to get rid of any excess water. When he was done he shook his still damp hair out and eyed his reflection critically. He ran his thumb underneath his eye and sighed. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately and it was beginning to show in the darkened skin there. 

He shook his head and began rifling through his bag for a shirt. Finding a grey long-sleeve shirt he pulled his left arm through the sleeve and was about to put his right one through the other sleeve when it spasmed unexpectedly and pain shot up his arm. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes trying to ride through the waves of agony silently. When it finally stopped he released a breath in relief.

_“Well Lieutenant Commander, I don’t know what to tell you,” A man wearing the garb of a medic said as he looked over a datapad. The man gestured at Luke’s hand that lay with the inner workings exposed. Luke glanced at the opening where several wires connected the hand to a machine and looked away quickly as the man continued. “According to these readouts there’s nothing mechanically wrong with your hand. The logs show no irregularities for the last several weeks. It’s highly likely that you’re experiencing phantom pains.”_

_Luke breathed in deeply, “I understand Doctor.”_

_The other man reached forward and deftly removed the wires before doing one last check and resealing the opening in Luke’s arm._

_Luke stood quickly as he flexed his hand hesitantly, “Have a good day Doctor.” He turned briskly and left the facility rubbing the place where his flesh connected with machine._

Luke leaned forward against the sink with his left hand supporting him as he eyed his right appendage apprehensively. The synthflesh slid over the internal robotic mechanisms smoothly as he flexed the fingers that he still had trouble accepting as his own. The device that had replaced his hand was heavy in a way that could only spell durasteel, and when he was in a place as quiet as this he could just barely hear the whir of gears.

He flipped the hand over and scrutinized a cut that had nearly gone through the durable synthetic material when he had crushed the datapad earlier in his restless slumber. Most of the time he forgot how strong the grip strength of the device that had replaced his hand was. The mechanisms in the hand had been designed to only act as strong as the user expected the hand to be, at least up to a point. If the user’s expectations exceeded the robotics’ normal functioning capabilities there was a way to override the safety features programmed into the hand, however it would be detrimental to the functionality of the hand over prolonged periods of time the medical droid had told him.

He wondered if he had managed to override the failsafes in his sleep or if crushing a datapad was well within the hand’s normal capabilities. He shuddered slightly at the possibility.

Luke’s eyes slid further down his hand, past his wrist where the nearly invisible lines marked the opening to the inner workings, and finally rested where his arm met the “Modern Miracle of Science and Robotics.” Synth flesh was highly accurate in its imitation of skin, however it was unable to grow hair because while it was was many things alive was not one of them. The sudden change from smooth flawless flesh to freckled hairy skin was unnerving to him. If those differences weren’t there he would have never been able to tell where the machine ended and he began. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not, and he loathed the uncertainty and discomfort that it brought to him.

Ever since he had returned to the Alliance from Bespin all of his shirts had become long-sleeve. Most of the pilots probably had one of his short sleeve shirts and tank-tops now, since he had gone on a bartering spree upon his arrival at Haven Base.

He shook his head and roughly tugged the shirt that had previously belonged to Hobbie over his right arm before he pulled the shirt over his head and down his chest with a growl.

Here he was letting his thoughts distract him again. He closed his eyes and forced his mind clear, drawing on the soothing presence of the Light. He could feel his tense muscles go slack and allowed himself to bask in the calming waves for a moment before his chronmometer’s alarm went off abruptly dragging him back to reality and reminding him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes.

“Kark!” He cursed and quickly ran his fingers through his hair. It would have to do. Luke padded quickly over to the bench he had left his combat boots at and sat down. He shook out a pair of thick socks he had gotten on Hoth that helped prevent blisters and pulled them on before pulling on the black boots and tucking the ends of his pants into them. He laced the boots with now well practiced hands, angling the string over the metal hooks on the boots, before he double knotted them. When he finished with both he stood and stretched his arms above his head before he let them drop. His right arm jolted slightly from the weight of durasteel, a feeling that he was slowly getting used to despite it all, and he went over to his belongings and packed them back up quickly before he slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the restroom.

Luke passed the mess-hall on the way to his room, the sounds of conversation and laughter spilling out the door with the smell of dinner as he continued on. Making a quick stop by his room he dropped his bag on the floor near the door and moved on towards the Command Centre.

When he reached the door Luke keyed his passcode in and stepped inside after the door shot up with a pneumatic hiss. Luke walked past several sentients and droids, the soft glow of the data screens making everything appear more angular. When he reached the far side of the room he placed his left thumb on a scanner and stepped through another door into a room with a large holoprojector in the centre. Several of the command staff members loitered around the room with other members of the Alliance, many conversing in hushed tones. Luke looked around the room and immediately gravitated towards Leia who was speaking with Supreme Commander Madine, gesturing widely, her body language screaming irritation.

“-- can’t just ignore this Crix! You know as well as I do how bad it would be for morale if we abandon a base and word gets out!”

Madine sighed, “I’m just saying that strategically it is unwise to send people to a base that may very well be occupied by Imperials. You know that the warning message didn’t get properly encrypted in the middle of that chaos at the end of the Hoth evacuation. After all of this time they’re just now contacting us, and instead of it being an update it’s a distress signal? The entire situation screams of a trap Princess.”

Luke saw Leia’s jaw clench in indignation and he stepped forward quickly in an attempt to diffuse the situation, “So I take it we still haven’t been able to contact the base then?”

Leia turned to him and her features immediately softened, the sudden interruption allowing her to regain her usual professional demeanor, “Unfortunately not Commander Skywalker, which only increases the urgency that we respond. If they truly do need our help there is no time to waste.”

Madine opened his mouth to respond when the door hissed open and Mon Mothma walked in followed by Admiral Ackbar causing the room to go silent. The woman looked around the room and nodded in satisfaction, “It would seem everyone is here, so let’s get started. As you all should have read we received a distress signal yesterday from Quarry Base at 09:22 hours that had been redirected to us by one of our freighters. Aside from this we currently have very little information. The last status report we have is from a week prior to the Hoth invasion saying that they had settled into one of the many old mining facilities on the planet. The particular one they were based in was located in the Northern Hemisphere. The coordinates we were given were approximately 24° Nern and 75° Esk, which placed them several kilometres south of a large fissure that can be seen from orbit. Exact coordinates were listed in the file you were given.”

As she spoke the holoprojector in the centre of the room lit up and several visuals were shown, “In our considerations towards this situation we must keep in mind that due to our losses at Hoth we are currently incapable of sending a large contingent of our people to assist. In addition, after consulting with Supreme Commander Madine, it has come to my attention that it is also a possibility that the base has been occupied by Imperials. If anyone else has something to add, the floor is now open.”

 A relatively young female Bothan stepped forward. She was tall for her species standing at approximately 1.6 metres, and Luke watched her idly as she cleared her throat. Her feline face revealed very little, but the subtly rippling fur around her face and through her beard revealed her nervousness about speaking in front of the group. Luke reached out sending faint tendrils of calm towards her. She tensed momentarily, eyes flashing over to him as suspicion twisted out into her force-presence. Luke pulled the tendrils back almost immediately, somewhat surprised that she had realized what he was doing, and looked at her apologetically. She turned away from him apparently deciding to ignore him in favour of speaking.

Luke heard the slight accent that came from her native language of Bothese as she spoke in Basic,“Our intelligence shows that no known rebels from the cell based on Allyuen have been held in custody. In theory if there _are_ Imperials on the planet, then they may be on a no contact mandate, or they may be having troubles of their own. Be advised however that those possibilities are nothing more than an educated guesses, as we currently have nothing to base them upon aside from prior experience.” She clasped her clawed hands before herself and inclined her head slightly in the barest of bows before stepping backward into a parade rest.

Madine appeared to be considering the information thoughtfully, his intelligent eyes sizing the Bothan woman up as he analyzed what she had said, “ _If_ this information is correct then the situation now has fewer disadvantages. This would mean that even if there are Imperials on the planet we would have to deal with far fewer of the enemy than I had previously thought. I still say it is possible that the situation could be a trap. They could be holding our people on the planet, which would explain them not being held in custody in the usual locations.” He paused for a moment his expression becoming ominous, “Or they could be dead.”

Luke knew his expression matched the grim one that the others in the room were now wearing as the man continued, “They were out of contact for three months. That is plenty of time to have broken them and retrieved the codes.” The _in my experience_ went unspoken by the former Imperial, however it was implied well enough. “If we were to arrive it could very well be to a well prepared formation of star destroyers.”

Leia stepped forward and spoke up, “Thank you for your insight Commander, however I feel that I must interject. We must remember that these are our people that are out there possibly needing our help. We cannot just simply abandon them because it makes good tactical sense.”

Luke smiled slightly as he felt her righteous anger towards the situation that she somehow managed to contain behind a trained aristocratic mask. The Princess had always had an impassioned personality and he sometimes wondered how long it had taken to perfect such a strong control over her expressions. He knew he was useless at it, having been told more than once that people could read his thoughts just by looking at his face. Something he was going to have to work on he realized somberly as he barely contained his wince when Admiral Ackbar brought up the possibility of Vader being involved with the situation.

He mentally chastised himself as the Captain of the ground troops at the base asked the Bothan woman if she knew anything about the Dark Lord’s current location. The woman shook her head in a negative, “Lord Vader was last seen boarding a private shuttle on the Executor approximately a month ago. Since then our network has been unable to track his location. It is likely that he made several jumps when he left the Executor because we were unable to triangulate his location based upon his exit trajectory.

The man grit his teeth, “So what you’re saying is he could be anywhere. That’s just fantastic. We’ve got a Sith Lord running loose in the galaxy, and for all we know he’s at Quarry Base.”

Luke shook his head and spoke up for the first time almost without realizing his intention before the words left his mouth, “No, he’s not there.”

Everyone in the room turned towards him and he felt his mouth go dry. He swallowed audibly and the Captain snorted derisively.

“And you would know this _how?”_ The man looked at him challengingly and Luke gritted his teeth.

“The attitude is unnecessary Captain,” Leia stated sternly and the man’s jaw tensed, but he kept his silence. “Now Commander Skywalker, if you would kindly explain?”

Luke looked at her, his thoughts rushing through his mind with little coherence, before he took a in a deep breath, drawing the Force to himself and allowing it to calm him, “I know because of the Force Princess Organa.” He ignored the Captain who was rolling his eyes, “I know he is not there because it is what the Force disclosed to me. It is as simple and as complicated as that.”

Luke felt a moment of uncertainty in his friend before it was quickly quashed by trust that was directed towards him, “Is there anything else that you can tell us about the situation Commander?”

The Captain spluttered and looked at her with his jaw agape for a moment before he spoke, “My Lady, you can’t be taking this seriously! The Force is nothing but the belief of a dead religion!”

Luke felt an oddly sharp burst of resentment towards the man’s disbelief before his vision flickered slightly and settled on an unfamiliar scene.

_Several men in Imperial uniforms sat in a room around a circular table, and a man Luke somehow identified as a General by his rank placard on his breast despite having no experience with Imperial ranks spoke. Luke heard nothing however, because he was completely distracted by the tall helmeted man dressed in black armor that seemed to ooze command presence._

_‘Father,’ he thought dazedly, the word slowly becoming his instinctive reaction to seeing the man, as opposed to Vader as it was previously. He watched the man intently and tuned into the conversation._

_“What of the Rebellion? If the Rebels have obtained a complete technical reading of this station, it is possible, however unlikely, they might find a weakness and exploit it,” the General said warily, obviously picking his words with care._

_His father’s reply was firm, and Luke could feel the ghostly presence of his father’s dark flames churning throughout the room, his anger at the loss of the plans felt by even the non-sensitive men in the room if their expressions were anything to go by, “The plans you refer to will soon be back in our hands.”_

_A distinctly self assured Admiral spoke next, clearly ignoring his instincts to his detriment, “Any attack made by the Rebels against this station would be a useless gesture, no matter what technical data they have obtained. This station is now the ultimate power in the universe! I suggest we use it!”_

_Luke’s skin crawled at how callously the man spoke of ending so much life. This man was horrible. How could someone treat sentients’ lives so frivolously?_

_His father’s booming voice interrupted his train of thought, the vocoder unfortunately ridding his words of the sharp edge that Luke could feel accompanied them, “Don’t be too proud of this technological terror you’ve constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.”_

_The Admiral had apparently thrown all sense of self -preservation away with his promotion to his position, because when he spoke next it was with a decidedly derisive tone, “Don’t try to frighten us with your sorcerer’s ways, Lord Vader.” Luke felt irritation lance through him as the man continued to mock the Force, a thing that had become so central to his life. “Your sad devotion to that ancient Jedi religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes, or given you enough clairvoyance to find the rebels’ hidden fortress…”_

_Luke felt his father’s presence explode, and even the echo of his anger was enough to cause him to shudder._

_So strong._

_He was suddenly overcome with a feeling of yearning to be surrounded by his father’s protective presence again. It was worryingly habit-forming, and it had a strong influence on him he abruptly realized as he felt his irritation start to warp into something far less docile when he felt his father lash out in an invisible hand that began to strangle the man._

_“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” the ominous figure of his father intoned._

_Luke wondered if he was about to watch his father kill someone and his gut churned, his mind in turmoil. This was an Imperial that would have willingly killed billions every time the Death Star fired a shot at a planet. An enemy. Even if the Sith Lord wasn’t about to kill him now, the man likely died in the explosion Luke himself had caused. His father’s anger was like a tempest around him despite it being an echo from the past, and he had a hard time not allowing it to pull him in._

_“Enough of this! Vader, release him!” A commanding voice shot through his thoughts, and Luke felt like he was surfacing from deep underwater as the Dark Lord suddenly pulled his impossibly strong power inward and released the Admiral. It made his mind spin to know that his father could contain so much strength without it exploding outward from his control._

_Luke drew on the Force now that the Dark Side wasn’t stifling the room, and was beginning to successfully calm himself until he looked to see who the man that had managed to stop the Dark Lord was. A sudden surge of anger sliced through his near calm and his eyes slitted in fury. Grand Moff Tarkin. THIS was the man that had given the order to decimate Leia’s home planet. Luke hadn’t been aware that his father was taking orders from the man at the time, had even assumed that the Sith Lord had been controlling the situation in some way, yet now it appeared that his father had wanted nothing to do with the giant death machine, and was far more content with the use of the Force to achieve his goals._

_“Does that really change anything though?” He mused to himself as he fought to reign in the surging emotions that the presence of Tarkin had caused. “After all he is still a mass murderer even if it is on a different scale.”_

_‘Not planets though. He doesn’t kill indiscriminately that I know of,’ a small part of him whispered. ‘He is the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military, of course he has killed people. It is a war after all. It would be hypocritical not to consider that since I’ve killed so many myself.’_

_He winced as he was reminded of the outcome of the events he was standing in the middle of, even if it was a dream or a vision._

_So many._

_He continued to watch his father, his thoughts a whirlwind as the scene began to dissolve around him._

He blinked as the room came back into focus and then wobbled slightly before catching himself on the edge of the holoprojector with his right hand, his left hand going up to hold his now throbbing head. As the last dregs of the vision finally left him, he found himself left with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he somehow knew was related to the base on Allyuen.

“Commander Skywalker! Are you okay?” Leia’s voice slid across his awareness and he tried to remember what had been happening.

The base.  
The bothan report.  
Madine’s typical analytical breakdown and Leia’s compassion.  
The Captain that had badmouthed him indirectly through disrespecting the Force.

Irritation spiked through him again that he quickly stamped it out before drawing on the Light to soothe his frazzled nerves.

He shook his head as the situation resolved itself in his mind again, “No. I mean yes, I’m fine, but the base isn’t. I don’t know exactly what’s wrong though, it’s more of a feeling than exact information.” He chewed on his lip for a moment in uncertainty as he turned the feeling over in his mind, “It doesn’t feel like a trap, just a general feeling of distress and despair.”

Leia looked to Mon Mothma who appeared to be listening to the information seriously, “What do you think ma’am?”

Mothma’s expression became grim, “I think that I have enough history with Jedi to know when to listen to one. Gentlemen, Ladies, something must be done about this situation.”

Leia nodded, “I agree. We cannot simply leave them there if they need our help.”

Madine looked at Luke appearing to look straight through him before he spoke, “I still advise caution in this situation. We have no idea what would be waiting for us if we go through with a rescue mission.”

“I could scramble the Rogue Squadron,” Luke spoke up again, this time as a Commander as opposed to a Jedi consultant. “The guys have been getting antsy for something to do anyway.”

Madine considered him for a moment, “You would need transportation, and at least a platoon of ground troops for support. I think we can spare one of our smaller carriers, perhaps an _Acclamator-_ class assault ship. I don’t think we can afford to send much more than that at the moment.”

Leia nodded in assent, “A vote then. Please input your decision via your datapad now.”

Luke winced at the reminder of his lost datapad and what had happened to it. “Ah, I accidentally dropped mine,” he lied uncomfortably, forcing himself not to fidget. “I was going to head to the tech department after the meeting for a replacement.”

Leia looked at him searchingly then nodded, “In that case a verbal placement of your vote will be accepted Lieutenant Commander.”

Luke gave her a grateful look, “As the representative of Rogue Squadron and as Lieutenant Commander I place my vote in favour of the mission.” He glanced over at a large viewscreen that took up much of the far wall as it lit up showing Leth Senth, his initials, under the column supporting the operation.  

The rest of the votes were quickly cast in support of the mission, though several, Madine included, voted against the operation.

Mon Mothma addressed the group, “Now that a decision has been made it is time we move on to the matter of who will lead the mission.”

Madine cut in before anyone else could speak up, “This mission is high risk. If we plan to go through with it I feel we will have the highest probability of success if I accompany the group myself.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the room and Luke knew that there would be few objections.

After a quick vote Luke was proven right, and the Supreme Commander was officially given leadership of the mission, though Luke wondered at the man’s change in tactics. With how opposed to the task the older man had been, it seemed odd for him to want to supervise it personally.

Mon Mothma addressed the group again, “Unless anyone has anything further to bring up this will conclude the evening’s discussion. A meeting will be held between those that will be taking part in the mission tomorrow at 09:00 hours.” She waited for a moment, however when no one moved to speak she continued, “In that case you are all dismissed.”

The group dissolved into a disorganized chattering mass as they made their way out of the room and into the main section of the Command Centre, and Luke fought to stay close to Leia, “That went well didn’t it?” He asked her curiously and she nodded.

“Indeed. I feel that your insight helped to draw us to the correct conclusion,” she said, her tone professional as they drifted out of the Command Centre and into the hallway. As the group began to thin she smiled and whispered, “Thank you for your support Luke, the Rogue Squadron will be invaluable for this.”

He cracked a grin at her as they both relaxed into a more friendly atmosphere, “I wasn’t lying when I said they were getting antsy Leia. I’m worried they may manage to wreck half the base if we leave them sitting idle for too long.”

Her bell-like laughter danced through the air, “Oh, that is far too true Luke! Don’t worry though, you, Wedge Atillies, and Jouffer Talamiin do a good job of keeping them in line.”

He snorted in response, “I don’t know about me and Wedge, but _no one_ dares to cross Tal.” He paused and looked over at her, his eyes dancing along with his teasing tone, “She’s about as dangerous as you are when you’re mad!”

Her jaw dropped for a moment before she swatted him upside the head even as she started laughing, “Luke Skywalker! If I didn’t know any better I’d think Han is rubbing off on you!”

Her hand abruptly stilled at what she had said and she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

Luke felt his stomach drop and he quickly moved to pull her into a hug, damn the consequences if anyone saw. She was his friend and she was suffering, political expectations could go to one of the various Corellian hells.

He felt her begin to shake, and heard a barely stifled sob that tore at his heart as he rubbed her back. This too was a consequence of his father’s actions, and it dredged up an immense amount of guilt whenever he thought how the Dark Lord had harmed her.

Leia didn’t talk about it often, but he knew his father had tortured her in an attempt to find the schematics for the Death Star. He knew it still haunted her because he used to wake up to her screaming on the Millennium Falcon. Now she was separated from the man she loved because of his father’s decision to use Han as payment to that kriffing bounty hunter. He grit his teeth and as his conscience ripped into him. Was it too much to ask for his friends to be unharmed and safe? To have a father that wasn’t considered the terror of the Imperial Military?

Even as he comforted his friend from the harm his father had caused he still felt the overwhelming longing he had always had. The need to have his father in his life. It was hard to ignore something that had been with him since as long as he could remember, even if logically he should let it go under the circumstances.

Breathing out a long breath he pushed her back from him slightly and wiped the tears from under her eyes gently, “We’re going to save him Leia. We’re just waiting on Lando to give us the opening we need. We knew that infiltrating a Hutt’s domain would be a delicate business.”

She shook her head as if that would wipe away the despair and stood up straighter, obviously frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I should be stronger than this.”

Luke looked at her in concern, “You have nothing to be sorry about Leia. You’re only human. You’re one of the strongest people I know, but you’re allowed to show weakness, especially to a friend. That’s what friends are for.”

She smiled at him slightly and hugged him, “Thank you Luke, you’re a good friend. I trust you more than almost anyone else.”

Luke’s head throbbed reminding him of the headache that had begun to form earlier, even as he was assaulted by everything he was hiding from her. It took everything he had to put the pretense of a natural smile on his face, “Thank you Leia, that means a lot to me.”

She looked at him, her intelligent brown eyes seeming to see into his soul, “Are you okay Luke?”

Luke looked away unable to meet her eyes, “Yeah, I just have a headache from earlier. I think after I get a new datapad I’m going to head to bed early.”

Leia didn’t appear to be entirely convinced, but she inclined her head, slipping back into the usual protocol that she had been trained for since birth, “Have a good evening then Lieutenant Commander.”

You as well your Highness,” Luke bowed slightly and turned to head towards the tech division feeling her sharp eyes on him intently until he rounded the corner.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I give up, apparently I’m writing this thing. My brain won’t let me leave it as a two-shot and then I wrote this long thing on top of it. 
> 
> Some random information:  
> \- Alluyen was considered a possible Rebel base by the Empire, thus it WAS probed around the same time as Hoth was. Conflicting information has it listed in the Anoat Sector with Hoth or in the Greater Javin system.  
> \- Jouffer Talamiin was originally the lead pilot of Scandium Team. Various information has the character listed as male or female, but all information says the character was handicapped, though nothing further is said about him/her. 
> 
> Still un-beta’d, so if you find any mistakes feel free to let me know.


	4. Convolute

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Convolute

The heels of Luke's boots tapped quietly on the temporary durasteel plate floor that had been laid out throughout the base, the corridor he was walking down slanting down the further he went. The Procurement and Supply Department was located away from the main housing and control area, and it could be seen in how the natural tunnel-like appearance of the walls. Bundles of wires hung along them and the ceiling, branching off from the source of power in the main section of the tunnel: the power rods. When he focused he was able to feel the energy snaking through the lines as if it were the Force electrified. It was a strange feeling which he generally tried ignore as best he could because it gave him goose-bumps and made him feel on edge. The energy felt wild.

As he continued on, his headache slowly fading, the plates on the floor became more and more irregular until he was walking on the natural dirt floor that was interspersed with rock. After a few moments more the tunnel opened up into a space that was larger than the mess-hall, though it certainly didn't feel that way due to the lower ceiling and the shelves upon shelves of supplies.

He looked around and spread his senses away from himself before heading into the maze of shelves heading towards the group of life-forms that he was aiming for. The closer he got to the back of the room the more wires spread around the space until they finally culminated into the rows of computer banks and machines that comprised of the Procurement and Supply Department's subsection: the Technical Division.

Before he could even get out a greeting he was set upon by an overly enthusiastic astromech that he immediately recognized even as it deliberately ran over his toes somehow managing to sound thrilled by his presence and chastising all in the same string of beeps.

"Oi! Artoo, calm down! I'm sorry!" Luke winced as the little but _heavy_ droid rolled back off of his toes with a sound that was a rather accurate rendition of someone blowing a raspberry.

Luke laughed and placed his hand on the droid's dome, "I promise I wasn't ignoring you, I've just been busy bud." The droid rocked back and forth on its treads before it rotated and rolled away from him in the midst of several members of the tech department laughing at them both.

"That droid's got quite the personality," a short human male commented as he rubbed his black beard, "I hooked it up one time to get a reading on it and I kid you not the little bugger made the data-screen say, 'What's the magic word?'"

Luke smiled and knocked the droid on the dome affectionately, "Yeah, this little guy's been through a lot. I read on the holonet that the R2-series had a tendency to get quirky the longer they went without their memory-banks being wiped. Out of the entire R-series they were the only ones that the company advised periodic wipes for. 'Too free-thinking and headstrong' is how the company described them I think."

The droid squawked indignantly and Luke grinned, "Don't worry buddy, I wouldn't do that to you. You're already great the way you are."

The astromech rocked forward and backward on its retractable centre leg for a moment appearing to scrutinize Luke before it reached out with one of its utility arms and swatted Luke on the leg in some semblance of sentiment before it rolled off as if to pretend nothing had happened in order to protect its dignity.

The other man chuckled, "Ah yes, I remember when that line first came out. Remarkably well made and versatile."

Luke nodded, "I'll say. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's a combat droid masquerading in the guise of an astromech. He's saved me more than once." He held out his hand to shake, "Luke Skywalker by the way."

The man took his hand and shook it then looked sharply at it, "Oh I've heard of you Lieutenant Commander." He flipped the hand over and looked more closely making Luke feel uncomfortable, "The craftsmanship on this is almost second to none." He looked up and met Luke's eyes knowingly, "The Princess must really like you."

Luke swallowed dryly and shook his head, "Oh no, it's nothing like that. We're friends." He pulled the robotic hand free and rubbed it with his other hand.

The other man patted him on the shoulder, "I apologize, I'm something of a cybernetics and droid enthusiast when I'm not masquerading as the Captain of Logistics. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Luke smiled hesitantly at the man's reference to what he had said about Artoo, "So then Captain of Logistics, this must be your division I take it?"

"Ah yes, where are my manners! Captain Kavel Mesa at your service, though I insist you call me Kavel. Mister Mesa has been and always will be my father." He turned and led Luke further into the tangles of wires and machines before reaching a table that unlike most of the other tables was only mostly buried in electronics with a few empty spaces still visible. He gestured to a chair before sitting in another one himself.

Luke settled into the seat and glanced around taking in the other sentients that all sat at different tables or consoles working on their own projects before he turned back to the older man, "You guys seem pretty busy."

"Yep. Most of us have mattresses somewhere in here where we sleep when we don't pass out where we sit. There are only so many of us and we're responsible for the entirety of this base as well as maintaining proper distribution between all of the other bases. Thankfully each base has their own PS Department and Tech division, but we're basically the main hub here that keeps it all moving efficiently." He glanced over at Luke with tired smile, "We're overworked and understaffed, but that's just the way the Alliance does everything unfortunately."

Luke winced and looked over the table in front of him realizing that this table and most of the others were covered in items that were waiting on repairs, "I definitely know where you're coming from. We make do with what we have over in the Starfighter Department, but it's dangerous out there and we lose so many. Not a lot of people want to volunteer to fly a one manned death-trap."

"Myself included young man, no offense. I've never been one to enjoy flying," the man said as he began fiddling with an old com-link.

Luke snickered slightly before he reached for an old portable holoprojector that lay on the table. "More like afraid of flying I'd say," he said jokingly as he he picked it up turned it over in his hands, "This looks like it's old enough to be from the Clone Wars," he muttered distractedly. The world seemed to fade as he reached for a hydrospanner and deftly took off the outer casing with a practiced hand, following the connections of the inner workings with a careful eye before he paused instinctively, his focus drawing him to several wires. Something tugged at his mind and he reached for and grabbed a pair of insulated tweezers from the mess on the table without looking. He began separating the small clump of wires and pulling them to the sides until he felt that he had found what he was looking for: a small wire that appeared to be connected still, that he somehow wasn't. With careful maneuvering he pulled the loose wire further out and grabbed a small welder. Barely allowing the wire to heat past the melting point he quickly put the wire against the connector that it had come free from and allowed the slightly melted metal to cool, securing it in place. Using the tweezers he placed the wires back where they had been and then screwed the lid back on with the hydrospanner. He flipped the device over and hit the on button causing a small hologram to spring up in the air over it.

Luke closed his eyes and sighed realizing he could feel the calming waves of the Force flow through him. He had been utilizing it without noticing like he used to ages ago, back before he even know what he was doing.

He opened his eyes and looked over at the Captain who had gone quiet watching him, then he turned back to the hologram. It was a woman with dark hair, though the blue of the hologram made it impossible to know the true colour. She stood almost regally with her hands clasped over her rounded stomach, her intricate flowing dress nearly disguising what Luke knew for some reason was a pregnancy. On her face was an honest, loving smile, and her dark eyes danced in happiness.

"Who does this belong to?" he asked, his voice almost a plea, though for what he didn't know.

"That belongs to Princess Organa, though how you managed to figure out what is wrong with it is beyond me. We've had that thing for months now and as far as we could tell it _should_ have been working. How did you do it?"

Luke's stomach flip-flopped at the mention of Leia. "I've just… always been good at fixing things," he said haltingly. "I used to fix stuff back on the farm for my Uncle."

"Well your Uncle was a very lucky man then," the man commented off-handedly.

Luke felt a wave of sorrow go through him followed by a stab of guilt, "He was a good man. I always used to think he was being strict, but that was just his way of protecting us. I miss him and Aunt Beru every day."

The older man seemed to realize that he had stepped into a delicate area and changed the subject, "Well since I don't think you originally came here to volunteer your services, though I certainly wouldn't say no if you did, what exactly did you need from us young man?"

Luke turned off the holoprojector and fiddled with it nervously, "Ah, about that. I accidentally broke the datapad I was assigned and I need another one."

"Another one? What did you do to it if someone with your skill can't fix it?" The man asked rocking his chair back on its rear legs.

Luke blanched and looked around feeling apprehensive, but none of the others were watching them, "Look, please don't tell anyone Captain. I don't need them worrying about me. I have too many people depending on me already okay?"

"I told you to call me Kavel son, now what's the problem?"

Luke grit his teeth as he felt an unexpected torrent of anger shoot through him. He placed the holoprojector on the table with a controlled and deliberate motion from his left hand, even as right hand spasmed and clenched tightly. The mechanical joints pulled at the synthflesh, their shapes visible through it, " _Don't_ call me that."

"Don't call you what?" The man watched him in concern.

"You are _not_ my father, so don't you dare call me son," Luke looked up and some small part of him felt satisfaction when the Captain flinched backward from him ever so slightly. Luke could feel the man's emotions streaming out in the Force.

_Fear. Unease._

That same small part of Luke was drawn to it, and it took more effort than it should have to keep himself from smiling in response.

"I'm sorry Luke. It's just a habit of mine, I didn't mean anything by it," the man said eyeing him warily.

The sound of his name broke whatever hold the anger had on him and Luke shook his head trying to clear it and banish the trickles of unanticipated anger further into his mind. It wasn't this man's fault that he was having an identity crisis because the father he had always wanted was someone everyone here would consider an enemy, and it certainly wasn't something to get angry with the Captain about either.

' _Anger, fear, aggression; the Dark Side of the Force are they,'_ the memory of Yoda's words echoed through his mind hauntingly.

He sighed and slumped down in his seat covering his eyes, "I'm sorry, it's just a touchy subject for me Mister Kavel. I didn't mean to go off on you like that."

The man looked at him thoughtfully and nodded, "I can tell. Is this what you don't want others worrying about?"

Luke lifted his eyes past his hands and looked over at the other man. He thought for a moment before he sighed and decided to speak. The man already knew more than he had intended to reveal anyway due to his outburst earlier.

' _In for a decicred, in for a credit.'_

"Kind of. I keep having nightmares and sometimes they carry over to when I'm awake. I didn't even mean to go to sleep when I broke the datapad." He held up his right hand and raised his eyebrows pointedly, "Apparently my unconscious self expects more strength out of this hand than I do consciously. I woke up holding what was left of the datapad."

Kavel nodded, "Our subconscious often ignores normal expectations, flying dreams for example. The more concerning part is how it appears to be affecting your body while you sleep. Is this the first time something like this has happened?"

"As far as I know," Luke shrugged helplessly. "Of course I'm asleep and since I'm a Commander I have my own room, so it's not like I have a roommate that could tell me if they saw something."

The Captain looked at him consideringly for a moment, "Well I can tell you from research that crushing a datapad is far from the height of strength for a cybernetic such as that. As I said before, this is a _very_ well made piece of equipment. If you think this could become an issue I would suggest shutting it off whenever you plan to go to sleep to help avoid such a thing happening again."

Luke grimaced in displeasure. Shutting the hand down would mean losing all feeling in it and leaving it as a dead weight on his arm. As much as he disliked the idea of the mechanical limb he realized that having no feeling in it at all would be far more disconcerting. At the same time if crushing the datapad was a fraction of what the cybernetic was capable of, then something much worse could occur if it happened again. "I'll think about it," he hedged warily.

"It is merely a suggestion," Kavel said with a shrug. He clapped his hands together as he changed the subject back to the purpose of Luke's visit, "And now, you need a datapad, let me see what I can find." He stood and Luke followed behind him even further into the packed area that the Tech Division was assigned to. They were greeted by several of the busy Tech personnel, but they appeared to be too busy for conversation. The Captain, who was shorter than Luke by a couple of inches, continued to weave through the space with relative ease and they eventually reached a table with various datapads laying on it. The Captain looked over them and stroked his beard, "Let me see… you need one that supports encryption and decryption and has a thumb-print scanner and preferably facial recognition. Ah, here's one." He plucked it off of the table and plugged it into a nearby dataport. His hands danced over the controls for several minutes before he unplugged the device and handed it over to Luke. "There you go, just like your old one. Try to keep this one intact hmm?"

Luke snorted at the man's humour as he took the device, "No promises Mister Kavel."

The man shrugged, "Ah well, it was worth a try, no?"

Luke smiled slightly, his mood slowly lifting, "I suppose I can't blame you for trying."

"Come, I will show you out," Kavel said and headed back the way they came. As they passed the table they had been sitting at earlier he picked something up off of the table. "Catch," the Captain said, and tossed it at Luke who had continued on.

Luke turned instinctively and snatched the item out of the air before his mind caught up with his body. He stopped moving to look at the item thoughtfully, "The holoprojector? What's this for?"

The man placed his hand on Luke's back and continued to usher him towards the edge of the Tech Division, "You're the one who fixed it. I figure you deserve to be the one to return it to the Princess."

"Oh," Luke blinked for a moment at the idea, "Well alright then, I guess that makes sense."

"Of course it makes sense boy!" Kavel clapped him on the back, "Now go on and get some sleep. You're lucky enough to have the time."

Luke cringed slightly at the thought, "I'm sorry I took up so much of your time Mister Kavel. I know you're busy."

"Nonsense, you were good company and you fixed something for us that had us stumped. Perhaps you might consider joining us more often. We could certainly use the extra hands even if it's part time."

Luke grinned, "I'll definitely consider it. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime Luke. You have a good evening," Keval returned Luke's grin and stuck out his hand.

Luke reached out and clasped his hand in a handshake before he turned and headed back into the maze of shelves on his way towards the exit, and subsequently his bed.

=-.-=

General Crix Madine was _not_ a morning person if he did say so himself. It had always been his least favourite time of the day, and he still had flashbacks to the times that he had been woken daily by the morning reveille. That was the past of course, however despite his status of Ex-Imperial Military he still heard the echo of it in his mind every time his chronometre's alarm went off each morning.

'It's not actually there,' he always reminded himself before he forced himself to rise from his bed. It was the one moment of weakness he allowed himself before his self enforced efficiency fully kicked in and he made himself ready for the day.

Today was no different.

He went through his morning routine with a meticulousness that came from doing almost the same thing every day for longer than he cared to remember.

' _You can take the military man out of the military, but you cannot take the military out of the military man,'_ he had been told once by Mon Mothma. He had to agree.

Sonic shower. Clean his teeth. Comb his hair. Trim his beard (he hadn't been allowed one when he was with the Empire, and this was one of his defiances). Press his uniform and shine his boots (two habits he couldn't force himself to break). Uniform on. Boots on. Check his datapad for updates. One last check in the mirror, then head to breakfast. Leave the mess-hall twenty minutes before he was required to be somewhere.

Today _would_ be no different.

Crix heaved a sigh as he stepped into the ready-room, a mug of caf held firmly in his hand. He looked around and took note of all of the people that had arrived early. Most of the people in the large room were the usual group of people that had previous military or law enforcement background, though he had to suppress an unprofessional smile at the sight of Wes Janson bowed over a large cup of caf like it was his only hope for staying awake. The man was even less of a morning person than he was, but unlike Crix he didn't have the military history to train him into being an early riser.

Beside him sat Jouffer Talamiin, likely the reason Janson was here early at all. She probably had to drag him out of the bed he mused, which suggested something in the way of a relationship, though he wasn't particularly inclined to look further into it.

The woman was talking animatedly with Wedge Antilles who was responding with his usual calmness, though equal enthusiasm as they discussed the finer points on X-wing repair.

Crix allowed his gaze to drift and continued to watch as others began to trickle in from the various departments that had been assigned to the mission. The room was becoming closely packed when Luke Skywalker walked in. Crix frowned as the blonde walked through the mass of sentients exhibiting the same unnatural grace that he had seen Lord Vader utilize when he was fighting. He had realized long ago that the Dark Lord was deliberately being less light-footed and graceful than he was capable of when he wasn't in a battle environment. Crix knew that most people that noticed the same thing thought that the Sith did it for the intimidating factor that came with the giant man sending slight vibrations through the floor as he walked, but as he watched Luke he figured he had a better idea as to the reason.

It was _eerie_ watching Force users move. They had a kinetic stillness about them, no unnecessary movements to adjust their balance even as they stood still, and yet they always seemed to be ready to explode into motion at any moment. He figured that the Sith Lord already looked inhuman enough to others due to the mask, so the man likely chose to appear more human by not allowing the Force to control his movements as much.

The Alliance's Supreme Commander mentally shied away from the idea of anything influencing his movements. The idea of some disembodied _Force_ controlling anyone seemed disturbing to him.

That wasn't to say that he couldn't see the advantages. He had once seen Lord Vader protect Storm Troopers by simply deflecting blaster bolts that would have hit them with his lightsaber, and all while attacking as well (something Luke would soon be able to do if the recordings in the training room were anything to go by, though the boy currently lacked a saber after the Bespin incident). Simply seeing the Imperial Supreme Commander stepping on to the battlefield and leading an attack himself had been mind-blowing at the time given how many of the top Imperial brass would never risk themselves in such a way. He knew that Vader's tendency to go to the front lines and fight was a huge factor in the loyalty many in the Imperial Military felt towards the man, and despite the fear that everyone felt when around him - for good reason, for he did _not_ take failure well - most respected and even revered their Supreme Commander. It certainly helped that the Sith was highly skilled in the art of combat.

Yes, Force users were dead useful… when they were on your side and followed orders.

Luke had a penchant for not following directives, something that annoyed Crix to no end. He would always say he had followed some elusive feeling from the Force and the rest of the Command Staff ate it up.

He _despised_ it.

For all the good the Force caused, the idea of relying on vague feelings instead of strategy, hard facts, and evidence was simply foolhardy to him. He was man of plans and logic, not elusive gut feelings.

And that was nothing compared to the rumours of Force users being capable of mind control. The entire concept was rattling and horrifying all at once. The loss of control of yourself to someone else was something out of a nightmare. Luke had yet to exhibit the ability as far as anyone knew, but that didn't stop Crix from being wary.

_Puppets dancing on the Force users' strings._

All in all, despite knowing that Luke appeared to be nothing but an innocent farm boy, Crix didn't, no, _couldn't_ trust him. He had broken protocol too often over his years in the Alliance.

Not to mention the fact that he came from a Hutt planet. That said enough in its own right.

The boy looked up from chatting with several pilots and met his eyes without pausing to search them out, a knowing look conveying that Luke knew he had been watching him. He watched as Luke raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'What's your problem?' Crix scowled as the ice blue eyes bore into him and he wondered if the budding Jedi had been feeling his emotions, or worse was hearing his thoughts.

No, her certainly didn't trust the boy, but he would use him. A resource was a resource after all. He would just have to work on getting said resource to follow commands.

He resolutely stepped forward to the podium to begin the possible suicide mission's break-down determinedly looking everywhere but at the now suspicious pair of icy eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And so we have another chapter. This seemed as good a stopping point as any, and I'm sick at the moment. Hopefully it turned out alright given the low-grade fever that's trying to muddle my mind.
> 
> Random Info: Captain Kavel Mesa is a pre-existing EU character that I kinda took what information there available and ran with (though really he kinda ran off on me as characters tend to do and he and Luke ended up conversing far more than I had initially planned for).
> 
> Still un-beta'd. If you notice any mistakes let me know.


	5. Idiosyncrasies

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Idiosyncrasies

As he waited for the meeting to commence Luke chatted amicably with several of the people from his squadron and ground crew, feeling surprisingly awake for how little sleep he had managed the night before. He allowed himself to relax and spread his senses into the Force basking in the cheerful mood the group was unconsciously radiating. As the group sank into the minutiae that only pilots and mechanics understood he smiled. It was this sort of simplicity - the day to day normalcy - that kept him grounded, and had ever since he lost his Aunt and Uncle. He had only grown more dependent on it over time.

As he continued to talk with the others a sense of unease began to encroach on his island of calm making him stiffen slightly. He abruptly spread his senses further from his bubble of safety in search of the source and was hit an intent which was so strongly focused on him that had he been standing he would have stumbled.

_Distrust. Fear. Contempt. Analysis._

He forced himself to not hunch over and continue to talk as if nothing was wrong. Time seemed to stretch and then there was a flicker of thought - not even a full sentence, or even a voice, but instead a clipped concept - like a scrambled comlink.

' _From… Hutt… planet.'_

He concentrated on the source. _Madine_ he realized.

He was so focused on the other man that when he turned to look at him he already knew where to look to meet his eyes. He observed the other man in confusion. What had brought on the roiling emotions that he could feel directed so sharply towards him? He raised his eyebrows in question. As he felt resolve quickly overtake the other emotions he realized that whatever had caused it couldn't be good.

It felt ominous.

Luke continued to watch Madine thoughtfully as he explained the mission details in front of a holo projection, somewhat surprised by how well the man kept his distaste and doubt towards the mission out of his expression. He also noticed the man was avoiding looking at him with an almost stubborn deliberateness.

Once Madine began explaining information that Luke was not already privy to he began to pay more attention to the words and less to the man speaking them. There would be time to worry about how the man was acting later.

"We will be transported by the _Corellia's Luck_ , an _Acclamator-_ class assault ship as some of you may already know."

Luke snorted aloud exchanging looks with Wedge. If he had learned anything from his time spent around Han and Wedge it was that the saying "luck like a Corellian" was a bit of a mixed bag. Most of the time a Corellian's luck was considered the best possible of the worst outcomes, and given all of the situations he had been through with Han and Wedge he figured it was a pretty accurate description.

His mirth was interrupted by the frosty voice of the Supreme Commander, "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, do you find this mission funny?"

Luke flinched back from the sudden animosity he felt needling at him from the other man. Wondering what he had done to anger the man so severely Luke replied stiffly, "No sir, I was just reminded of something." He forced himself to meet the other man's gaze steadily and straightened his shoulders. He was a Lieutenant Commander, not some timid farm-boy that would back away from confrontational comments.

Madine's eyes bore into his for a moment and Luke stared back passive, yet deliberate until Madine pursed his thin lips then spoke, his tone derisive, "Very well. Do try _not_ to interrupt _Commander._ "

Luke's eyes slitted marginally as he fought to keep a scowl off of his face. Now the man was just being rude. He gave the barest of nods returning the blatant disrespect with his unspoken breach of protocol for the chain of command.

Madine's jaw tensed and he looked away abruptly continuing to speak even though Luke could feel his irritation coming off of him in waves. "The _Corellia's Luck_ will be departing 07:00 hours. We will be travelling most of the distance on the hyperspace routes known as the Sanctuary Pipeline and the Corellian Trade Spine. You should all be familiar with that section of the Spine given that it is the route that is closest to Hoth. As per normal we will be making several diverted jumps to throw off any tracking. Once we reach the Allyuen System we will be reverting into real-space as close to the planet's gravity well as is safe in a position that will allow for a retreating hyperspace jump should it be required. Because we do not currently know the situation on the planet Rogue Squadron will do reconnaissance in the area around the last known location for Quarry Base. After this it will be decided whether it is safe to land our ground forces.

Luke tilted his head to the side in thought. So this was how they were going to play it? Keep the people assigned to the mission in the dark about the possible Imperial threat? He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea, and the Force was disappointingly quiet aside from the same feeling of distress and despair that he had felt the night before at the Command Staff meeting. He decided to let the rather ominous omission go for now since it would at least keep any panic from setting in before the mission had even started.

As he had contemplated the situation Madine had continued to speak. As the man began to explain the most likely drop points for the ships carrying the ground crew and the likely locations for the Rogues to land Luke quickly plotted the points on his datapad before the holoscreen could change. He absentmindedly began going over how to best situate his squadron for a thorough canvas of the terrain and debated over where each member should land if (' _when'_ the Force whispered) it became necessary.

"Keep the weather in mind people. It's not going to be Hoth cold, but it _will_ be cold, so dress appropriately. This is your only warning, If you do not have the proper attire speak with the Procurement and Supply Department and they will supply you with essentials. Is everyone clear?" Madine's sharp eyes swept the room for any uncertainty amongst the chorus of 'Yes sirs' and found none. "Any further questions should be taken to your respective squad leaders. Dismissed."

Luke stood up smoothly and made his way out of the room, a trail of his squadron members and the female mechanic following him like a herd of Banthas followed its leader. The thought made him smile and he was able to easily release his irritation with Madine into the Force. Some of the tension in his shoulders lessened as Wes walked up to him clutching at his now half empty mug of caf.

"Well that was about as rude as a Toydarian at a royal wedding. I can't believe he spoke to you in that tone. He might as well have come out and say he didn't acknowledge your rank."

Luke shrugged slightly, not as bothered now that he was releasing the bulk of his frustration into the Force, "He dislikes our methods. Probably thinks we're too unprofessional and I'm the one in charge of the Rogues so I represent that."

"Oh come on, this is an alliance of people trying to bring back the old Republic, not the damn military. What does he expect?" Wes scoffed.

"Are you sure about that?" Wedge spoke up seriously and Luke hummed in agreement with Wedge's question. "The way I see it the two are becoming virtually interchangeable. We _fight_ for what we want. We're hardly peaceful negotiators these days. Honestly sometimes I can see where he's coming from. We fight like we _think_ we're a military, but we don't act like it and sometimes that puts us or others in danger."

Luke nodded, "He definitely doesn't like how I go off following vague feelings from the Force dragging others with me. I think it's part of the problem, but it's not really something I can do anything about." He shrugged uncomfortably, "I'm just not trained well enough yet to fully use the Force to help plan a situation strategically."

' _Weak. So weak compared to Yoda and your father.'_

Luke's skin crawled at the sound of a voice he didn't recognize, a barely there phantom that slithered through his thoughts before it disappeared. He unclenched his hands, not remembering clenching them in the first place, and released his unease into the Force with some difficulty, easily calming down once he had. Whatever that had been, it would become clear in time.

He looked up and realized that the squadron was looking at him worriedly, "Sorry, I zone out sometimes. It's a Force thing."

The others nodded, but he could almost hear the 'What if he does that in the middle of a fight?' in some of their swirling emotions. He clenched and unclenched his cybernetic hand - his new nervous tick he thought bitterly - before he released a breath. As he breathed out he let his irritation towards the others for thinking that (and his own fear that they were right) go into the force. He had a mission to prepare everyone for, and now wasn't the time to be letting his emotions get the best of him.

With renewed determination he picked up his pace as he strode the rest of the way towards the area where most of the group was housed and stepped into the crowded space. As the others filed in behind him and situated themselves on the bunks in the room he wended his way through the unorganized chaos of trunks, clothes that lay around the room in disarray, and the bunks themselves, to the single console in the room and pulled his datapad out of his pocket.

After he hooked it up to the machine he turned back to the group sliding into the role of a leader with practiced effort, "Alright guys let's get started."

He heard the sound of a throat clearing and noticed Tal looking at him with her eyebrows raised in a joking manner as the short haired blonde elbowed the black haired female sitting on the bunk beside her hover-chair. The other woman tucked her long hair behind her ear, her blue eyes standing out against her almond coloured skin as they radiated her amusement.

Luke rolled his eyes, this again, "Tal, you and Cinda both know I say guys as a general statement. You're obviously not _actually_ offended now and you haven't been the last however many times you've pulled this."

He heard several of the others snicker and Tal grinned at him, "But where's the fun in not messing with you oh brave leader?"

Luke wanted to smack his forehead in amused annoyance. Apparently the woman was still annoyed with his comment after the evacuation drill, "Alright, fine, have it your way, but can I _please_ get on with this briefing so we aren't here all day?"

Wes gave a dramatic gasp and collapsed back on the bunk he was sitting on, "No! Anything but that!"

Luke saw Tal's eye twitch at the other man's antics and barely refrained from making a similar comment to what he had said the previous day.

_Focus._

"Alright _everybody_ ," he said with deliberate emphasis on the change in word choice, "Settle down."

The noise in the room dulled and then went quiet, so Luke began, "As you now know we're going to be travelling to Allyuen. The last known location of the base is a few kilometres south of a really big fissure in the ground," a holo-image popped up on the screen and zoomed in on the fissure before zooming out slightly to encompass the area around it. "Given that the planet is comprised of mostly desert terrain a canvas of the area is going to be easier and more difficult at the same time. I grew up on a desert planet and I can tell you that just because there's nothing obvious to see on the surface doesn't mean that there's nothing there. We're going to have to look closely as we do our fly-over for signs of entrances to underground facilities or habitations. I'm going to be splitting the twelve of us into two groups, six of us will be designated to checking the flats around the coordinates we were given for the mining facility, while the others will be surveying the fissure." He tapped his datapad and twelve icons representing their fighters appeared on the screen in the pre-designated locations he had selected. "As you know we will be integrating three members of three other squadrons into our group for the foreseeable future. I have designated Sila Kott from Red Squadron as Rogue Nine." He gestured at a sharp-faced pale woman with dirty blonde-hair that was pulled back into a tight bun and she nodded in greeting. "She will be flying with Gemma as his wing…" he paused a moment pursing his lips in amusement, "woman." The woman snorted lightly at his reference to the earlier word-play. "Kott, this is Gemma Sojan, he's Rogue Eight," he said gesturing to the male.

"Pleasure," she said shortly, revealing a clipped accent that he didn't recognize.

Luke continued, gesturing to the only non-human in the group: a Sullustan, "Ten Numb will be joining us from your old squadron Gemma. He's from blue squadron," he explained to the others. He smiled wryly, "To prevent confusion due to his first name I figured it would be smart to just give him the designation Rogue Ten."

"Wait a minute Hobbie, did our Commander just call us stupid?" Wes whined.

Hobbie laughed in response, "I think he did my fine Taanabian friend. Not that he's far off the mark where you're considered."

"HEY!" Wes cried out in annoyance, "Who said you could take _his_ side?"

This time Luke really _did_ smack his forehead, "Will you knuckle-heads knock it off? You're going to scare them away."

"Sorry Sir."

"Sorry Commander," the two chorused out of sync.

Luke shook just shook his head and motioned toward the last new member, a dark haired male with tawny skin and brown angular eyes, "This is Lieutenant Ekelarc Young from Gray Squadron, obviously he will be Rogue Eleven. He and Ten Numb will be flying together." The man nodded solemnly and Luke continued when he realized the other man wasn't planning on saying anything. "For those of you who are new I'm Luke Skywalker and my call-sign is Rogue Leader." As he continued he pointed out the other members of the group, "This is Wedge Antilles, he's Rogue One and my wingman. Derek Klivian is Rogue Two, though as you probably noticed most of us just call him Hobbie. Rogue Three is Wes Janson. He and Hobbie fly together, probably not the best idea, but they get along well," the last part he said as an aside which made the two men grumble. He pointed towards the only other blonde male in the room, "That is Tycho Celchu and as you can probably guess he's Rogue Four. The quiet one beside him is Dix Rivan, though we tend to call him Dixie. He's Rogue Five and they fly together." The man waved slightly as Luke turned towards the brown haired male that sat next to the only other female pilot, "This is Nala Hetsime and Cinda Tarheel. They're Rogue Six and Seven respectively, though they flew together as Rogue Seven back on Hoth." He looked around the room, "If you need help remembering it all you can all get to know each other later."

Inwardly Luke snorted in amusement, 'Getting to know each other' to the Rogues translated to 'Get really really drunk together.' There were going to be a lot of hangovers in the morning.

He turned back to the screen and tapped his datapad causing numbers to pop up next to the icons on the screen, "Wedge and I will be leading the group over the flats. Numb, Young, Nala, and Cinda will be with us. Tycho and Dixie will be in charge of the group in the fissure, and the rest of you will be with them." He tapped his datapad for the last time and trajectory lines formed on the main screen, "Take note of where I have you placed and your general trajectory. You are going to be responsible for knowing it when we reach the planet. We will be looking for signs of life and possible reasons for the base needing to send out a distress signal. Focus is going to be very important on this one guys, so try to keep the joking to a minimum."

He heard several 'Yes sirs' and 'Yes commanders' and he nodded. "Alrighty, does anyone have any questions?" When no questions were forthcoming he continued, "In that case we're done for now. I suggest everyone start packing if you need to," he allowed his eyes to skim over the mess in the room purposefully and noted several cringes around the room before everyone stood and started moving.

Luke watched the others joking around for a few moments wistfully. Having the privacy of his own quarters was nice, but he missed being with his squad-mates. Ever since he had trained on Dagobah there had been a fissure forming between himself and his squadron that had only been exacerbated by his private lodging. He could tell that his abilities made some of them, especially the newer members, nervous whenever he used them, or they affected him in some way like they had earlier. The problem was one without a solution though, because now that he had begun his training it was impossible to go back to how he had been. It would be far worse than losing a limb and more like losing all of his senses.

Unfortunately the exchange was having others look at him like he wasn't quite human. He was well aware of how he looked to others: a being of unnatural grace - almost always aware everything that was in his direct surroundings - no wasted movement when he moved because the Force always conveyed the exact movements he needed. He actually had to put in more effort to appear 'normal' than he did to just flow with the Force. Most of the time he didn't bother because even when he tried he knew people still knew what he was hiding. They were always looking for the signs because they all knew what he claimed to be. Many of the new squadron members had a hard time seeing past it all to the person he was underneath. And why not? They barely - or never - knew him before he had changed, and with him living separately they had even less of a chance to get to know him.

Luke turned and strode out of the room still in thought. Another problem with living alone was how much time he had to think, and given how often his thoughts drifted towards the negative (and why wouldn't they given everything bad that had happened since the Alliance dropped into his life in the form of a quirky pair of droids), he often found himself wishing for the distraction brought by having room-mates.

Luke looked up from his boots, that he realized his eyes had drifted toward, and found himself looking at the familiar surroundings of the hangar. He smiled slightly and released a huff of air in mirth. Whether it was the hand of the Force or his own wayward feet, something knew where to take him to calm down.

An excited trill of binary drew his attention to the side and his smile widened at the sight of a familiar blue and white astromech barrelling toward him.

"Hey bud, slow down," he said with a laugh, as the droid came to a skidding stop mere milimetres from crunching over his toes again. The little droid warbled in the droid equivalent of enthusiastic chatter. "You seem to be in a good mood huh?"

The droid rocked side to side on its treads before zipping off towards a terminal leaving Luke to catch up at a much slower pace. Luke shook his head with a smirk, "I really need to learn binary." He leaned over the console that the droid had connected itself to and skimmed the Aurebesh characters that the droid had transcribed across the screen, "What do you mean you found a set of your schematics? I thought you were too modified for the normal R2 series schematics?"

"Obviously," the screen read. "I had the schematics stored in my databanks by Master Ani. I've been trying to get into them since we left Bespin."

"Master Ani? Do you mean Captain Raymus Antilles? I know you belonged to him before me."

The sound the droid made was what Luke had to equivocate with a human scoff, and more words appeared on the screen, "Antilles didn't know anything about programming. I meant Master Anakin."

Luke froze at the name.

" _Ben, if you knew my father then you must know his name," He paused a moment, the next part still raw after what had just happened on Tatooine, "Uncle Owen always refused to tell me."_

_The old man smiled in a bittersweet sort of way, "His name was Anakin. Anakin Skywalker."_

Back then he had thought he would have all the time in the universe to learn about his father, so when the old Jedi turned the conversation towards the Force he hadn't been too put out by it.

_Regret._

He swallowed dryly and croaked, "You mean Anakin Skywalker?"

The droid turned its main photoreceptor, its 'eye,' toward him and appeared to stare at him even as more words replaced the ones on the screen, "Of course I mean Anakin Skywalker. He's hard to miss now that he wears that big black outdated life-suite."

Luke sank down to the floor, "You knew? Wait… you used to belong to my father?"

The droid trilled an affirmative and Luke stumbled over his next words, "Why… why didn't you say something?"

The droid probably would have shrugged had it been able to, "You never asked. Statistically you do look very similar to him. I deduced relation was likely, and your surname made the conclusion seem logical."

Luke's voice caught in his throat, before he managed to choke out, "I really look like him?" Suddenly he found himself staring at a projected holo image. He froze momentarily then scrambled forward and reached out to the image with his right hand careful not to break the beams of light that held the image that was priceless to him.

Wavy hair framed a face that was more angular than his, a prankster's smile splitting the man's expression, and a scar cut down the right side of the man's face through the eyebrow and beside a mischievous pair of eyes that looked older than the face would have suggested. Somehow he knew the man's eyes would have been the exact shade of blue that he saw in his own reflection, and it was this thought that sent tears running down his cheeks. There was no denying it, this was definitely his father.

"Father," he croaked and pulled his hand away clutching the cybernetic against his chest with his other hand, "What happened to you?"

How could this smiling man have ended up in that terrible suit? How could he have become so cruel and heartless?

_Not heartless._

The pang of regret his father had felt when he cut off Luke's arm echoed through him. It had been real.

Still cruel.

_When necessary. When it had to be done._

_An aged voice crackled through his thoughts, an echo from a past her never saw, "Do what must be done. Do not hesitate. Show no mercy."_

His skin crawled.

' _What must be done.'_

_Blast shields slid down over transparisteel blocking rivers of lava from view._

' _Do not hesitate.'_

_The ground rumbled as hundreds of armored feet marched up wide stairs into a place that was considered holy._

' _Show.'_

" _Master Skywalker!"_

' _No.'_

" _There are too many of them!"_

' _Mercy.'_

" _What are we going to do?"_

_The sound of a lightsaber as it ignited. He recognizes the sound of that ignition._

_No. No._ No.

_Fear in the eyes of a child._

_Burning._

Luke's eyes snapped open and he shot up into a sitting position before promptly vomiting. He collapsed weakly away from the puddle and groaned in pain.

Something bumped into him almost gently and he saw R2-D2 leaning against him, a conductor for electricity still visible as if the droid wasn't sure if it would need to use it again.

"Please don't," he managed to wheeze and the droid backed off. With a drawn out moan he managed to sit back up, "What happened?"

The droid plugged back into the terminal and words flashed quickly across the screen, "You went into an unexpected sleep cycle. You were writhing all over and I couldn't wake you up. Master Ani called them _Visions._ I have had experience in the past where a jolt of energy was able to wake him, so I calculated that it would likely have a similar effect with you."

Luke shuddered. Visions.

Was it real? Yoda had said he needed to be calm to see true visions, but he certainly didn't _feel_ calm. Had Yoda lied to him?

"Thank you Artoo," he said shakily as he tried to calm his breathing and release what he was feeling into the Force, but was met with little success. In frustration he stamped down on the emotions and shoved them into the far reaches of his mind. It was nothing, he was over-reacting. Yoda wouldn't lie to him.

_Kenobi did though._

He shook his head as if to shake the last few minutes off and turned back to the droid that appeared to be worried if the low whine it made was anything to go by.

"I'm fine Artoo," he said with a sigh.

"Master Ani used to say that too," the droid pointed out more as an observation than a comparison.

Luke suppressed a flinch anyway and decided to redirect the conversation, "So you were saying something about schematics?"

The droid twittered an affirmative and a set of schematics flashed up on the view-screen. Luke's eyes darted back and forth across the image and his jaw dropped, "You weren't kidding about being modded. Is that a Fusion Cutter? Wait a minute, you have _rocket boosters_? You can FLY?!"

"I could fly if someone would actually do maintenance on them. They've been non-functional for years now," the screen read as the droid warbled in annoyance.

Luke gave the droid an amused smile, "Astromechs don't usually come equipped with kriffing _rocket boosters_ bud. Most people wouldn't know to look for them."

The droid rocked back and forth like a petulant child then the screen said, "Your logic is sound." If a droid could pout Atroo would have hit the expression spot on.

The thought dragged a reluctant laugh out of Luke and he patted the droid's dome, Don't worry, I'll give everything a look and see what I can do. It'll help pass the time on our way to Allyuen."

The rotund droid whistled in excitement, "The repair of all of my faulty parts will increase my capacity for maintenance by approximately 32.5 percent and my capacity for improvised combat by 64.8 percent."

Luke's eyebrows rose incredulously, "Improvised combat?"

"Oh yes. Improvised combat was a regular necessity when travelling with Master Ani. He was often…" the droid paused momentarily which was a long time for a droid to calculate a word choice, "reckless."

The memory of Yoda's voice overcame Luke momentarily.

' _You. Are. Reckless.'_

He shook it off and continued to read what the droid had put on the screen.

"I had to save him and the others he travelled with many times. Statistically he encountered far more trouble than the average sentient or even the average Jedi. It was abnormal but…" again that pause, this time longer, "enjoyable to be a part of."

Luke eyed the droid oddly. The last comment had almost seemed sentient. Normally droids calculated their 'moods' based on their programming. Each mood was created with pre-made protocols that they followed faithfully. If their personality matrix concluded that excitement was the correct protocol for a situation, then they would follow that protocol. A protocol could be initiated and ended as the situation deemed, but droids did _not_ have opinions or 'feelings' about things unless they were based upon statistics. This? This was different. Which made him wonder if his father's 'recklessness' was really based on statistics as he had originally assumed.

Suddenly he was struck with a pang of desperate want, and despite knowing better than to ask a droid a question based on its non-existent opinion he couldn't help but hope. "What… what was my father… er… Master Ani like?" he tripped over the words, his mouth suddenly very dry, the acidic taste in his mouth left by the bile from earlier tasting sharp in his mouth.

"Master Ani was…" the screen shone innocently at him and he waited with bated breath until the screen began to fill.

"For the Republic: The Hero-With-No-Fear

For the Jedi: The Chosen One or The Son-of-Suns

For Master Windu: A threat or danger to be watched

For Supreme Chancellor Palpatine: An opportunity that was underappreciated by the Jedi

For the Clones: A good comrade and General

For Padawan Ahsoka Tano: Sky-guy, a role-model, and a big-brother

For Grand Master Yoda: A mislead student

For Obi-wan Kenobi: A friend, a brother, a student"

On and on it went and Luke's heart sank. He knew he shouldn't have expected anything _real._ And then it stopped for a moment before two more words appeared on the screen and Luke's heart rose into his throat.

"My friend."

A long pause.

"He made me what I am. I am grateful."

Another pause, this one so long that Luke thought the droid was done, then…

"I miss him."

Luke felt a sudden need to hug the short droid, "You really _did_ care about him. How is that even possible?" This went against everything he knew about droids.

The screen quickly filled, "My memory banks haven't been wiped in approximately forty standard years and Master Ani made his own modifications in my coding. It is only a theory, but it is the only somewhat plausible one that I have been able to come up with."

Luke leaned back and ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully, "If that's the case then why do you usually function like a normally coded droid? I mean, I knew you were quirky for a droid, but I never noticed anything like this."

The droid shifted back and forth with a warble as the screen filled yet again, "It is strange, even uncomfortable, to branch away from normal protocols. I do not do it often."

Luke nodded thoughtfully, "Interesting." The ramifications were mind-boggling, and yet he found himself focusing on something else, "So you were close to him then? Was he always so…"

"Empty?" the droid replied and Luke wrinkled his brow.

"Not the word I would have chosen, why do you say empty?" he asked thinking of the fiery emotions he had felt from his father.

"I suppose he would be different around you, but I have seen him in other situations while travelling with Princess Organa. He acts like a droid. He goes through the motions expected of him, but other than anger he is nothing."

Luke frowned, "He definitely wasn't like that with me."

"You are his child. As far as I am aware you are all that is left of his old life that he does not hate other than possibly myself and C-3PO."

"Wait, he knew Threepio too?"

The droid released a puff of air that sounded like a snort, "Of course he did. Master Ani _built_ C-3PO out of scrap when he was nine standard years old. The end result was not very sophisticated obviously, but for a human at that age with the supplies available he did surprisingly well."

"Kriff," Luke breathed in shock, "He did that when he was nine? That's amazing." He sat quietly trying to wrap his head around Darth Vader and the intelligent child the droid described being the same person. After several moments of quiet another question came to mind. He chewed on his lip and looked over at the droid wondering if he should ask the question or if it would be beyond the droid's capacity. He decided it wouldn't hurt to try, "How did my father seem to you?"

The screen went blank for almost a full minute before characters began to form into words haltingly, "Master Ani was stubborn. He was an adrenaline junkie and saw danger as a challenge. He _lived_ for flying. If he ever feared anything it was the loss of those he held close. He loved completely, and he hated like a restrained fire. In the end I think too much was expected of him and he collapsed under it and burned."

An audio recording began to play, the sound distorted by wind, crackling, and distance, but he could still hear a familiar Coruscanti accent yelling, the voice sounding broken beyond hope, "YOU WERE MY BROTHER ANAKIN! I _LOVED_ YOU!"

Something wrenched inside of him. _Ben._

Luke looked at the droid as the pieces began to finally ( _finally_ ) slide together in his mind and a thought came to him making him look at the droid curiously, "That was oddly poetic," he left the 'for a droid' unspoken.

"Princess Organa had a lot of poetry in her archives." Another pause, "I enjoyed it."

Luke nodded distractedly wondering what had caused Ben to sound so defeated.

The screen flashed again, "I also enjoy flying."

Luke smiled slightly. Flying. He and his father had something in common other than the Force. With that realization he wondered if he had ever flown against his father in a battle. The thought made him cringe.

Probably.

He still had a hard time accepting the full ramifications that came with Vader being his father and often found himself thinking of him as the two separate beings: the one that the galaxy knew, and the one that was actually his father. Logically he knew that the man was both, and the conversation with Artoo had helped him begin to associate the ideas together, but it was a hard concept to stomach.

Luke shoved the thought to the side deliberately and refocused on the droid, "Can you show me anything else? What about my mother?" He felt his hopes rise despite himself.

Text quickly covered the screen, "No. Most of the files are heavily encrypted and more than two attempts at the password or _any_ attempt at hacking the code immediately triggers a self destruct data collapse in my coding and any technology within the range of my short-range transponder. I would cease to function and all of my files would be lost."

Luke's eyes widened, "Stars that's brutal."

"Master Ani likes his privacy. Any information that is even possible to hack was deliberately made to be that way because he wanted it to be found. My schematics for example."

Luke nodded and hunched in on himself in defeat realizing that he had let himself to hope too much. He felt crushed, "So you can't tell me _anything_ about my mother?"

The screen remained blank again, and Luke absently noted that the slow responses coincided with the more sentient answers the droid made. He wondered how hard it was for the droid to be able to process its own responses and put them into Basic.

The screen lit up again and three sentences formed looking small on the screen despite their importance, "I could tell she loved Master Ani. He loved her to the point that he would do anything to protect her. He did and he lost himself."

Another audio recording began to play, this one more clear than the last, "Love won't save you, - - - -. Only my new powers can do that." Static filled the space where Luke _knew_ a name should have been, and the audio jumped forward as if a section had been cut out, "I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of, and I'm doing it for _you_. To protect you."

Luke teared up at the sound of the voice that sounded so much like the voice of his father when he spoke through the Force. So much desperation in those words. So much arrogance. So much love.

_All twisted._

"Your eyes are leaking Master Luke. Are you okay? You are worrying me." the screen read when he could bring himself to look at it again.

Luke choked out a laugh, "I'll be okay. Thank you for this Artoo. It must be difficult for you."

The droid beeped an affirmative, "I have been straining my processor's capacity. I need to allow it time to cool down."

Another telling pause, then, "I think it was worth it though."

Luke patted the droid's dome affectionately, noticing that it was unusually warm to his touch, "Sounds like a good idea bud. We wouldn't want you to blow a circuit."

The droid whistled cheerily and lightly bumped into him in its own form of affection before it rolled off with a toot.

Luke watched as the droid roll away, his thoughts running in circles. He rubbed his temples harshly and flopped the rest of the way back down on the floor. First his father, then a vision, then a sentient droid, and all while he needed to focus on getting ready for a mission. His body throbbed with the shift of position reminding him that he had been electrocuted in the middle of everything.

So much for the Force or his subconscious bringing him to the hangar to calm down.

He didn't even know how to start dealing with it all so he just lay there unmoving as he stared into empty space and tried to clear his mind to meditate. He would deal with it later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay guys, so I ended up hurting myself at work and now I'm on light-duty. Translation: I'm bored out of my skull and have plenty of time to write, especially on weekends that I work. The main problem is that I have no way to type this up on the computer or access to internet to do research (the I.T. department has crippled those poor computers so that we can't get on things they don't want us to). This means I have to re-type everything I write by hand at work AND verify any information I wasn't sure about or in some cases write entire scenes I had to skip for lack of available information. So in the end this means that there's probably little likely-hood of me stopping, it just takes a minute to get everything put together in a typed format.
> 
> Anyroad (yes I've taken up playing FFXIV) a LOT of information got thrown at you in this chapter. I tried to make it as easy to follow as possible and I think I managed. I ended up having to do a lot of research for sections of this (I spent a good fifteen minutes trying to find Arbra aka Haven Base on the Galaxy map based on it's location near a Hyperspace route that Wookiepedia showed it near just so I could figure out a route from Arbra to Allyuen… fun stuff), but I tried to keep it to where it wasn't necessary to know all of the stuff I now know in order to keep up with the story.
> 
> Also R2-D2 being (apparently) sentient was totally unplanned, but the little guy wouldn't leave me alone about it. In fact most of that scene was unplanned.
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- "I think he did my fine Taanabian friend," was a reference to Wes' home planet.
> 
> \- Sila Kott is a female pilot seen in the Battle of Endor. Her actor was dubbed over by a male actor.
> 
> \- Nala Hetsime and Cinda Tarheel flew one of the double-seated speeders together in the Battle of Hoth, thus they were both designated Rogue Seven at one point.


	6. Barter

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Barter

Luke woke to the sound of feet and chattering voices. He jerked up to a seated position with a curse which immediately turned into a pained hiss as he moved his stiff muscles.

' _Apparently I'm never going to be very good at meditating without accidentally falling asleep,'_ he mused to himself wryly as he slowly stood up and stretched out his aching muscles. At least he had managed to sleep without dreaming for once, and he felt oddly refreshed from his - he paused and looked at his chrono then winced - two hour long nap. For a moment he was surprised that no one had found him before then, but was reminded they had probably all been at lunch when his stomach complained loudly.

"Whoops," he shook his head at himself and turned to head across the hangar to rectify the situation, shouting a greeting at the other pilots on the other side of the large space. With quick steps he made his way towards the entrance the others had just come through and into the winding halls. He wended his way through the complex tunnels deciding to bypass the mess hall in favour of going directly to the kitchen since the food in the hall had probably already been removed given the late hour.

When he reached the entrance to the kitchen he palmed the panel beside it and the door slid up allowing him to slip into the loud and rather chaotic room. Steam billowed in one corner of the room where reuseable culinary devices were being cleaned making the air humid. Luke dodged his way through a crowd of bustling droids and walked towards the refrigeration unit, stepping deftly over a mouse droid that nearly careened into him as it sped across the room. He huffed in amusement as he reached for the large door handle with his cybernetic hand and pulled it open with a smooth motion that strained his shoulder and elbow slightly. The hand itself might be strong, but it was limited by the joints in both locations, something he was grateful for.

He stepped inside the large unit and quickly found what he figured he needed to make a sandwich and scooped it all up in his arms. With the items balanced precariously he used his hip to open the door with a sharp bump. As the door swung open the Force pulsed a warning and he reflexively snapped his foot out to catch the door with his ankle, jarring it. As his thoughts caught up with his actions he realized that the door had been mere moments away from hitting another sentient.

In the same moment he registered it was a Bothan, the being looked up from a datapad and startled so badly it dropped the device.

"Oh Sith, I'm sorry," he said immediately, unable to catch the device with his hands full, and so distracted he didn't notice his own choice of curse.

The being blinked slowly at him and he realized it was the same female from the meeting the day before. Her nostrils flared and he felt irritation seep out of her, "Some _Jedi_ YOU are. Forcing your will on people. Cannot even detect a person a few metres away. Not even able to make a Jedi's weapon. What use are you? The Hope of the Alliance? Bah!" she finished, her words heavily accented in her anger, and her voice bitter. She stooped over to pick up her holopad and dusted it off with quick movements that telegraphed her irritation.

Luke winced at the verbal beratement and hunched in on himself, "Look, I wanted to say sorry for that after the meeting yesterday, but you left so quickly…"

"Sorry? HA!" The woman sneered at him, "Did you even think about what you were doing manipulating a sentient like that? Irresponsible! Ignorant! Cruel!" Her eyes narrowed into slits, "It is things like these that made The Republic _fear_ the Jedi!" She prodded him in the chest sharply, "They were meant to be peace keepers! Protectors!" Her lip twitched in obvious disgust, "And yet here _you_ stand, a warrior that killed millions from the safety of a cockpit, repeating those same mistakes. Imperials see us as terrorists you know. But you? Oh no, _you_ are their mass murdering _nightmare."_ She glared at him, her chest heaving from emotion, and Luke's mouth opened and shut, no words leaving him. He felt like he had been stabbed endlessly with his own fears and worries.

She must have seen something in his eyes because her eyes softened slightly, and with it her accent, "You have been the centre of many hopes, and many have already been crushed. You must always be aware of the consequences of your actions. If you do not it will only get worse, and that cannot happen. It is not fair, but as the Alliance's Jedi you are the only one that is able to be the people's hero. It is a heavy burden to represent hope, but someone always has to do it."

Luke felt a lump build in his throat and wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. Instead he choked out, "I know. But the Death Star… I _had_ to do that." He hunched in on himself as he tried to convince the woman as much as himself, "I had to."

The woman eyed him quietly for a moment and then her expression shifted completely into an amused exasperation as she crossed her arms and sighed, her anger evaporating as quickly as it had come as if it had never existed, "So easily you doubt yourself." She shook her head, "Whoever you trained with let you leave _far_ too early." She quirked her eyebrows at him, "You must learn to accept what you have to do and avoid unnecessary actions." Her eyebrows lowered and she looked at him sharply as he stared at her gaping like a Mon Calamari, "A few nerves in front of a group does not warrant Force persuasion. That is an abuse of power. Alternatively, doing what is necessary to prevent further loss of life should not be questioned no matter how many enemies you make in the process." She continued on going through each of her previous accusations, "People will _always_ fear anything they do not understand, and will always expect more out of heroes than they are capable of." She tilted her head, "That said, I do not enjoy having my emotions tampered with, and _I_ have been trained to feel outside influence and subvert it somewhat," she smiled at him slyly revealing sharp feline teeth, before her expression turned serious again, "Most sentients do not have that sort of protection."

Luke stared at her blankly as his mind caught up with the sudden shift in the situation, "Wait… were you just playing Hutt's advocate with me?" he finally spluttered. She huffed through her nose and looked to the ceiling as if hoping it would give her strength to deal with his slow processing skills before she looked back at him with a nod. He looked at her in confusion, "But you actually felt angry."

She nodded again, "Yes, but I was angry about something else. I just allowed you to think that this is what I was angry about. If you can hide your true reason for your emotions under another reason, then you are safer from Force users that depend on that sense. It will not protect your thoughts however, so you must give as little reason for your thoughts to be read as possible. I am told that actually shielding the mind is much more complicated."

Luke walked over to a nearby counter and placed the food on top of it and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to release all of his confused emotions into the Force with only slight success, "Do all Bothans undergo that sort of training?"

She shook her head in a negative, "Only if interaction with Force users is likely. My people are information brokers and spies. We guard our secrets with great care."

Luke looked over at her thoughtfully as he pulled out two slices of bread from a package before setting it in front of him, offhandedly wondering what planet produced purple grain. His eyes slit in suspicion, "Well that being the case you're being oddly forthcoming."

"Am I?" She said, more than asked, revealing that same pointed smile, "Maybe I just like you baby-Jedi."

His eyes flickered across her face, but he found nothing suspicious and felt nothing from her but amusement.

He didn't trust it for a second, "Or you want something from me," he stated calmly as he reached for a knife and began slicing a block of something that he assumed was cheese.

"Perhaps," she conceded, then canted her head to the side, her amusement unchanging. "You are not as innocent as you act, are you Lieutenant Commander Luke Skywalker of the outskirts of Anchorhead Tatooine."

Again a statement, and not a question.

Luke barely concealed a grimace. Dealing with this woman was like dealing with a dangerous mix of a junk dealer on Tatooine, and a bounty hunter with an innocent face; manipulative and fully capable to taking advantage of her looks to dupe even those who knew better, and loyal only to contracts and money. As a Bothan she didn't even have the usual self serving motives. From what he had learned of Bothese culture they were only loyal to their clans, and it was their main Council - a combination of representatives from the clans - that controlled the brokering of deals and information. He couldn't afford to appear weak again in front of someone like her if he didn't want to end up being used.

He drew in a breath through his nose and released it in a huff, settling his features into what he hoped was a calm expression as he placed the cheese on the slices of bread and began cutting thin slices off of a piece of meat. His mind was another matter he realized as he had very little success using the Force to calm himself. Coming to a quick decision he shoved his rampant emotions to the back of his mind with a practiced ruthlessness that remained from when he still had to deal with the various merchants, racers, gangsters, slavers, and general lowlifes that had occupied the town nearest to his homestead without some mystical field of energy to calm himself down. He knew even as he did it that he had been doing it far too often lately, and that it was going to all come back up to haunt him again in the future.

Aunt Beru had always said it wasn't good to bottle emotions up.

Luke stubbornly ignored the harsh wave of emotions that tried to rise at the thought and shoved them back too as he shrugged in response to the deliberate power-play that her information dump had been, while quirking his lips up in a slight smirk, "Looks like someone's been studying the personnel files."

If anything her smile grew more predatory, "Where do you think the Alliance gets its background information checks from if not the Bothans? I _just happened_ to be the lucky one that got to check on the ignorant farm-boy that General Kenobi _just happened_ to pick up. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the stepmother of one Owen Lars, your grandmother, was Shmi Lars nee Skywalker, ex-slave, and mother to one Anakin Skywalker, winner of the Boonta Eve Classic at age nine, Savior of Naboo, also age nine, and Jedi General and poster-boy of the Clone Wars. The Hero-With-No-Fear."

He placed the knife on the counter with a deliberate motion. Even with that action it took everything he had not to immediately demand to see the information she had found, his body already tensed to lung forward and shake her until she handed the file over or spilled the information. She knew more about his own father than he did, and that idea rankled in a way he hadn't expected. He spoke, his voice oddly calm despite the tempest that was his thoughts, "The command staff never said anything about this."

She eyed her claw tipped fingers nonchalantly, "Oh they don't know. They only asked for basic information, your arrest record for example. Seems you enjoyed your illegal skyhopper racing a bit too much."

Her comment momentarily distracted him from his thoughts and Luke scoffed turning back to finish working on his sandwich, "It was only illegal because it wasn't being sponsored by Jabba. Hutts don't like gambling that doesn't get them a cut."

She chuckled, the sound a low alto, "And how did you manage to get out of that?"

Luke felt mild surprise as curiosity radiated off of her, but deliberately went against his instinct to simply tell her. He doubted he would have many opportunities to negotiate information from the woman, and he would have to take advantage of this even if it went against his normally open temperament. The question was what he could get out of her for the information. His thoughts immediately jumped back to the file she had compiled and he wondered if the trade would work.

It was as good a place to start as any he decided. They could always haggle if it came down to it.

His pale blue eyes darted directly to her bright green eyes, oddly human despite her cat-like features, and he smiled, "If you let me see the information you've found and continue to find in relation to me and my relatives I'll tell you."

She burst out laughing, "Oh, you've got guts don't you? A story for Bothan intelligence, that's a new one." Luke felt his face grow warm as she continued, "Perhaps you are not as innocent as most would think, but you still have much to learn. Allow me to humour you. What does your story gain me aside from my curiosity being satisfied? Can I even use it? What do I truly learn about Luke Skywalker, the Empire's Bane?"

Luke forced himself not to react to the nickname that he had never liked and grit his teeth in frustration; of course it wouldn't be that easy to get the information. His eyes narrowed slightly and he mulled over what she said, "So you want information about me? To broker to whom?" he drawled as an idea began to form in his mind.

She shrugged noncommittally, "I've been assigned to the Alliance for now, so your bosses presumably."

"For now," he muttered with a scoff, reminded again how easily her loyalty could sway. "And how likely is it that you'll be leaving us in the near future and will sell the information to say, the Empire?"

It was her turn to scoff, "Your superiors allow me to know information related to the Alliance and you don't trust me?"

He raised his eyebrows, "I'm not quite _that_ innocent. I don't know what deal your superiors set up with them, but I highly doubt it would cover this."

She grinned, giving off the feel of someone watching a pet perform a trick well, making him pause. This woman wasn't just someone he needed to be careful around.

This woman was dangerous.

"Don't worry, unless something drastic happens I've been assigned to the Alliance for the foreseeable future. Your information won't be going anywhere you don't expect it to go."

Not a direct answer, Luke noted, but he sensed it was all he was going to get from her, and Force, he _really_ wanted that information. "If that's how it's going to be, then I have a proposition," he said with a forced determination.

"Oh? Let's hear it then," she grinned wider.

"So long as you have authorization to know about the missions I go on, I'll let you come with us on the ones you're qualified for. I'm not endangering others because you don't know what to do in a warzone."

She rolled her eyes, "You think my superiors would send me here if I did not possess the skills to function in the situations I might find myself in? If anything I may be overly qualified." Luke looked at her searchingly as she continued, "This is a much better offer baby Jedi. I may even consider it if it still comes with the story of your escape from punishment."

Luke looked at her warily, reconsidering his decision. If she was truly qualified to follow him into fights, then she would be able to study his fighting abilities and tactics in an active situation, along with those of his comrades. "Can you really fly an X-wing?" he asked, his voice deliberately skeptical.

"I flew an A-wing in the Battle of Golrath to help offer cover for the evacuees. You probably heard me a couple times on the group com-frequency, I was Green twelve. I also consistently scored an average of ninety-seven percent on the X-wing flight sims. I have other flight experience that isn't really relevant to this situation as well, but suffice it to say I know what I'm doing in a cockpit."

Luke looked at her as he tried to remember if he had heard any of her com-traffic when a thought came to him; she was a good ten centimetres shorter than him, and he was already considered short for a pilot as it was. "Really? I would have thought with your size…" he trailed off when he felt her irritation.

"It is hardly relevant in an X-wing whether my feet reach the floor or not. There are no foot pedals, and even if there were I have modified plenty of crafts to function with my height," she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Now if we are done questioning my abilities can we reach an agreement? Or do you decline?"

Luke snorted, he was no stranger to being teased for being short himself, but apparently she really didn't like it. An odd thought given that she was tall for her species. She must have spent a lot of time around taller sentients he mused. Against his better judgement he relaxed slightly; she was dangerous, but something told him she didn't intend to do anything subversive for now.

He tilted his head, unconsciously mimicking her cat-like movements, "What's your name Miss Bothan Intel? If you're going to be travelling with us we'll need to know what to call you."

She tilted her head to the side, "Most people call me Iris."

"Most people? What's your full name than? I know your people consider your family and clan names to be important."

She smiled, possibly one of the only truly sincere smiles she had given him thus far, "Looks like someone else has been doing some research."

He shrugged sheepishly, "Just because I grew up on an isolated desert planet doesn't mean I should remain ignorant."

She laughed, clearly pleased, "That is a good attitude to have. Well Luke Skywalker, my name is Irys Arr'ojia," she said, the R rolling slightly, and the Y pronounced as a hard E making it sound far different from the Basic variant of her name. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you," she stuck out her hand to shake with a grin, as a wave of smugness radiated off of her. Inwardly Luke groaned in realization; she had apparently managed to get exactly what she wanted somehow. He shoved the thought to the side to deal with later.

"Hmm, Irys," he said, trying her name out as he stuck out his own hand and clasped hers in return, "Sounds better than Iris to me, what does it mean?"

Irys grinned at him and shook his hand, surprising him with the strength of her grip, "Guess you're going to be doing some more research into my culture baby-Jedi, I believe you have gotten enough information out of me for today."

Stronger than she looked.

Irys released his hand and looked down at the counter her accent and pronunciation shifted yet again to something closer to a native speaker of Basic, "So, you gonna eat that sandwich or what?"

He looked down and nearly palmed his face. He had completely forgotten where they were and what he had been doing, "Right…" he picked up the plate awkwardly and cleared his throat, "Um… raincheck on that story? I can tell it to you on the way to Allyuen or something."

He shifted uncomfortably until she nodded in agreement and spoke, "Don't let me keep you from your food, it's already late enough as it is. Besides, I need to pack. I've got a mission to get ready for now."

He nodded as well, "I'll talk to command to get one of the back-up X-wings prepped for you. You'll be flying with me and Wedge since we have an uneven number now."

"Not to mention there's no way you're keeping me from following you after our deal," she pointed out with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"That too," he conceded.

With that they exchanged farewells and she made her way through the slowly quieting kitchen as the droids finished up cleaning. He watched her weave through the room smoothly, pinpointing her movements as those of a warrior, as he finally took a bite of his sandwich. He grimaced and looked down at the oddly coloured combination. He would have to avoid the purple bread in the future, it was incredibly bitter.

Luke steeled himself and took another bite. He needed the nutrients, and there was no way he was making another sandwich. It had taken long enough the first time, and with his luck he'd get interrupted again, by Force knew what.

* * *

 

Lando Calrissian missed his wardrobe.

He had been living for several months now surrounded by drug addicts, sadists, bounty hunters, slavers, toadies, and the other general lowlifes that could always be found gravitating towards a hutt gangster's court, and yet somehow he still found that his chief complaint was how uncomfortable he was while wearing the garments he had been provided for his current job in Jabba's criminal empire: delivery boy.

It probably said something about him as a person.

At least they required that he be heavily armed whenever he left the hutt's domain he admitted to himself as he made his way back towards Jabba's Palace from a particularly seedy part of Mos Eisley. Everywhere he went these days was seedy, and the weapons were a comfort since they were the only things that kept him from being killed, or from being kidnapped and used for purposes that would have made him wish he were dead. Lando grimaced as he walked past a group of scantily clad sentients outside of a brothel, their species and presumed genders widely varied, though the glazed look in their likely drugged eyes didn't.

That was another thing that he had been forced to learn to live with: slavery. Before he had become the "honest" businessman of Cloud City, he had had more than his fair share of encounters with the practice, he had just never had to be as close to it as he was now. His current quarters were placed so close to the slave quarters that he was sure it was a reminder that he and the others he shared the space with were only one misstep away from becoming one of Jabba's slaves themselves. It was unnerving, and seeing the slaves come and go reminded him that he _could not_ mess up because not only was Han counting on him, his own future depended on his ability to work his way up in the hutt's ranks without failure. He had to viciously shove down his moral scruples with the act of slavery itself over and over on a daily basis. There was nothing he could do for them, and he had his own mission to focus on. His own life to worry about.

Yes, he conceded. This mission was certainly teaching him more about himself than he had ever wanted to know.

As he closed in on the garage he had left his landspeeder in he turned abruptly and entered a different building, what was left of the sign over the door identifying it as "Public Communication Terminals" in Huttese and Basic. Doing his best to act like he wasn't checking the entire location for sentients that were watching him he strolled through the lobby to the time-worn desk and the rusting reception droid.

"How much to send a long-distance message?" he asked in carefully practiced Huttese. In this part of Tatooine it was less suspicious for him to use the Hutts' language than it was to use Basic, even if his accent gave him away as a non-native speaker.

"Twenty-five peggats," the droid's voice crackled and Lando nearly cringed. That was the equivalent of one-thousand Galactic Credits, and with his current salary (nearly non-existent) a nearly impossible fee, even supplemented slightly with the emergency money he had been provided for the mission initially. He was going to have to go without food for a few days to justify the use of his emergency funds to himself he realized. Not something to look forward to, but he _had_ to send a message to the others.

Even so he raised his eyebrows and scoffed before continuing in halting Huttese, "Twenty-five? I look stupid droid? Maybe I scrap you. Fifteen peggats."

If the ancient droid had eyes to roll it probably would have. Lando was hardly the first sentient to threaten it he was sure, but haggling was part of the culture on the planet, "Twenty-two peggats."

Eight hundred and eighty credits, still not low enough. He scowled, "Eighteen peggats. Reception here is crap. Not worth much."

"Twenty peggats, final offer," the droid crackled.

Lando eyed the droid. Eight hundred credits, and probably the best he was going to get, "Fine. We have deal." He pulled his coin purse out from under several layers of itchy clothes reminding himself to move it somewhere else when no one who was likely to pickpocket him was watching, and carefully counted out the golden coins and handed them to the droid.

"You will be using terminal TT-23ME3612. You have twenty minutes," the droid stated dismissively and Lando turned and made his way to the hallway entrance in the back of the lobby, shoving the old and grimy piece of cloth hanging over the doorway to the side. He strode down the poorly lit hallway and when he reached the correct door he pushed it open, nearly knocking the piece of metal from its loose hinges in doing so. After he carefully pushed the door back in place he turned to the holocommunicator and frowned. Now came the hard part. He had taken a crash course on encoding holomessages from one of the members of the Alliance's many slicers, he just had to hope that it had stuck. He flipped a switch to turn the terminal on, filling the room with the low hum of machinery, and when the screen lit up he began following the steps he had been taught. He only had twenty minutes to set up the encoding, send the message, and break the encoding back down before erasing his history from the system and replacing it with something more mundane and expected.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth as he worked, forcing his nerves down in order to focus on what he was doing. After six minutes he nearly let out a cry of triumph before he quickly input the com-channel he needed to contact. Within moments he stepped onto the platform to send his message.

As soon as the recording light blinked he started, "Farmboy, Spitfire, Furball, I don't have much time. Progress has been slower than I hoped, this place is big, and unfortunately promotions seem to be based on money or ruthlessness. I've already done some things I'm not overly proud of, and it may have to get worse before I can get somewhere useful." He knew his expression looked conflicted about the prospect, but couldn't do anything about it, "I've seen our buddy and it's not good. He's right in the main room all the time, and the only time it calms down in there is when everyone is drugged out of their minds. Even then, I'm not sure I'd count on something like that. Not everyone here is an addict, and there are hunters passing through all the time. I've even seen the guy that gave our pal a ride here around quite a bit." He paused for a precious moment and swallowed harshly, "I've seen a lot of dead sentients these days. The big man keeps dangerous pets in his basement and likes to watch them from his favourite seat. I'm thinking about trying out guard duty. It'll mean I see more death, but at least it'll put me in the big guy's good books. He'll probably start me out at the gate since it's the easiest place to watch. Nothing comes here without being seen first. If I ever make it to the main room it would be a really good opportunity, even if I have to do a lot that I don't like to get there. If I ever get that far I'll be sure to let everyone know." He mulled over everything else he had learned in his time in the palace and decided he had conveyed everything useful for the time being and nodded. It would be up to the others to figure out what he had meant. He wasn't confident enough in his encoding ability to include anything more specific, "I look forward to seeing you all again. Be safe."

He quickly flipped off the record button and checked the chrono on the screen as he sent the message. He had eight minutes. Lando worked as quickly as he could, but even so he began to sweat as his nerves started to take hold. He managed to finish erasing the coding with two minutes to go and quickly wiped his history from the terminal. With the last minute he had he quickly recorded a pointless message and sent it to a dummy com-link that the Alliance had set up. Once he hit send he stepped back with a sigh of relief and moments later the terminal shut off on its own. That had been too close. He quickly wiped his brow and made his way out the door and back down the hall to the lobby before proceeding back into the streets without pausing.

He turned back in the direction he had originally been moving in and continued his trek back to the garage that Jabba owned. Once he retrieved his assigned speeder he would begin the last leg of his journey across the Bantha Plains and into the Northern Dune Sea where the hutt's compound rested strategically at the end of a long valley with nearly unscalable walls.

Lando rubbed his temples despairingly and wished he knew what in the Corellian Hells they were going to do to save the friend that he had doomed in the first place, before he chastised himself. He had a job to do, and focusing on how difficult this mission was turning out to be wasn't part of it. He needed to be worrying about how he was going to get promoted.

About how many sentients he was probably going to have to capture, torture, or kill to get there.

About how his conscience was going to survive this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So... I fell victim to Oh-My-God-The-Force-Awakens-Has-Taken-Over-My-Brain-itis and I had to take a bit to regroup and beat back the endless plot-bunnies that the movie spawned. I've been mostly successful (for now). No spoilers here, but that movie was freaking beast.
> 
> As per normal I remain un-beta'd.
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- 10 cm. is approximately 4 in. for those of us who don't always use metric (I chose to because it's the most used measurement system across the world)
> 
> \- Bothan names consist of a given name, and a two part surname. The first part is their family name, and the last part is their clan name (Given Family'clan).
> 
> \- 1 paeggat is the equivalent of 40 credits (you will probably recall that galactic credits are not seen as acceptable currency on most hutt-ruled planets)


	7. Avoidance

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Avoidance

Luke sat back and huffed slightly as he wiped his synth-oil stained hands on the pants of his maintenance coverall. When the blonde was satisfied that his blackened hands were at least dry - even if they remained just as grimy as before - he reached for his canteen and twisted the top off. He tilted the canteen back and took several thirsty gulps, his eyelids sliding shut as the liquid relieved his dry throat.

Once he finished Luke released a satisfied breath and opened his eyes again before he closed the container with a quick twist and tossed it lightly to the side. It landed near him with a clang on the durasteel floor, though the sound was muffled in the busy hangar. With his thirst now sated he turned his focus back to the project he had been working on and eyed it with satisfaction. With a few deft motions he returned power to the rocket booster he had been repairing and woke the small droid from its low-power mode.

"Pretty sure I got the left booster fixed if you want to run a diagnostic check on it bud," Luke said with a light grin.

The blue and white droid that was nearly his height when he was sitting trilled merrily and rocked side to side on its treads, text scrolling across the screen of Luke's datapad that was currently hooked to it, "There appear to be no problems Master Luke."

Luke's smile broadened, "Good to hear. I'd rather not end up with a cloud of black smoke to the face like yesterday."

The astromech made a downward shifting whistle and rotated back and forth slightly, distinctly reminding Luke of a pouting child as text crossed the screen, "How was I to know my exhaust vents had build up in them?"

Luke chuckled and patted the little droid's dome fondly, "The same way I should've realized it probably."

Artoo appeared to eye him for a moment quietly before the next text scrolled across the screen, "Can I try them out Master Luke? I've missed flying."

Luke grinned in excitement, "Of course bud. I've never seen an astromech fly before." He paused momentarily then joked, "Just let me get out of the blast range this time."

The droid squawked indignantly, "You're the one that fixed me, do you not trust your own handiwork?!"

"After getting coated in soot yesterday? No, not particularly," Luke pointed out.

The droid released a short gust of air that sounded decidedly like a scoff, "It's not that hard to clean up."

"Ha," Luke rolled his eyes after he read Artoo's response, "Maybe if you're made of metal. My coveralls are never going to be the same."

"Your coveralls are made to get dirty Master Luke," the droid quipped with a noise similar to a human clicking their tongue in disapproval.

"Oh hush," Luke snorted, "Are you planning on checking the boosters today or not?"

The droid whirred in amused annoyance and detached itself from the holopad with its clawed manipulator tool before it wheeled itself away from Luke. Luke heard a slight whir as the boosters extended, and a click that indicated the droid was initiating its boosters without pausing. The small noise was followed immediately by the woosh of igniting flames. In less time than it took to blink bright blue flames shot towards the floor and began lifting the little droid into the air.

The R2 unit released a sound that Luke could only describe as joy with a hint of smugness, and Luke whooped with it, basking in their success. Artoo shifted its stabilizers back and forth to test its balance before it proceeded to dart around the hangar eliciting yelps and various other sounds of shock from the others spread across the space, reminding Luke that they had an audience. The droid rocketed towards him, flying parallel to the floor, before it righted itself with a swift swivel and lowered itself smoothly in front of Luke. As the boosters extinguished Luke heard a single person applauding.

He turned and saw Wedge watching with a grin, "You know, when you said Artoo could fly I thought you were crazy. Whoever modded that thing before Captain Antilles got it is either a genius or is kriffing insane." He crouched over and looked at the boosters with a low whistle, " _Very_ nice." He drew out the first word easily emphasizing how impressed he was, "Are you sure Artoo isn't an espionage droid in an astromech shell? I certainly wondered it often enough and that was _before_ I knew the little dude could fly."

Luke felt an odd twinge of what might have been pride for his father's work, but he quickly quashed it. That was his father from the past. He couldn't even image Darth Vader bothering with droids now; the idea was just too incongruous with what he knew of the Sith Lord.

He focused back on the moment not allowing his straying thoughts to ruin his good mood, "I'm sure, I've seen the schematics. Artoo's too strange to be an espionage droid," he laughed brightly, "You should see some of the stuff that's been added in."

"Oh? How'd you manage to get a look at the schematics? Can I see them?" Wedge asked, his curiosity plainly visible.

Luke struggled to keep himself from shifting awkwardly. It had been two days since the events in the hangar at Haven base, and this was the first time he had mentioned anything from the day to anyone. Artoo saved him from answering by warbling a negative. Relief that he didn't want to admit to rushed through him and Luke lifted his eyebrows in confusion at the droid's response. The small droid rolled over to him as if prompting him for something. Luke quickly realized the droid wanted to speak to them and reconnected Artoo with the holopad.

Text immediately began to fill the screen and Luke skimmed the aurebesh characters as his eyebrows rose further, "What do you mean only I can view the schematics? I thought you unencrypted it?"

The droid made an offended blat sound and more words appeared, "I un-encoded the simplest part. The rest of the encryption encodes it so that only your biometrics will allow access. If Master Ani wants something hidden it stays that way."

Luke barely had time to wonder how in the hells Vader had managed to allow R2D2's coding to allow for this when he realized what the droid had done, though it was likely unintentional.

"Master Ani?" Wedge asked and Luke couldn't help it, he cringed.

He schooled his features into a placid façade as quickly as he could and spoke in a blasé tone, "Ah yeah, he owned Artoo Captain Antilles did."

"Oh? I never heard about that. As far as I knew he had been wiped after the Death Star's blueprints were retrieved from him; sly little thing isn't he?" Wedge said, a calculating look in his eye as he observed the droid.

The droid whirred nervously as it realized its mistake and Luke forced a sigh. If he didn't act quickly the droid would be in trouble, "Artoo's been avoiding a memory wipe for a while. Can't say I'd blame a droid for that honestly."

Wedge gave him an odd look, "If you say so." He didn't say it, but Luke could almost hear him think that droids got wiped all the time and wonder what the big deal was, "Do you know who the mysterious Master Ani with the insane coding skill and modification ideas is?"

Luke stiffened and his mind raced. Did he tell Wedge the safer part of the truth? He _was_ his friend, but he found he had a hard time trusting information about himself to others these days.

_What if they start making connections?_

' _They would never trust you again. They might even kill you,'_ the voice he had only heard once before crackled across his consciousness and he felt his skin crawl before he shoved the voice away.

No. He wouldn't believe it. He had friends here. In a sudden burst of stubborn recklessness he spoke, "Anakin." He gulped dryly as he realized what he had done, then set his jaw and spoke again, "Anakin Skywalker. My father." A warm feeling rose in his chest at finally getting to tell someone, and he couldn't tell if it was a good one or a bad one. It somehow made everything seem more real.

Wedge's jaw dropped, "Anakin Skywalker? As in the Jedi General that died during the coupe at the end of the Republic?"

Luke winced at the last part, "You've heard of him?"

"Of course! I mean, not much obviously since everything pre-empire is heavily censored, but I know that much at least," the other man paused, "Though I didn't think you knew who your father was." He shrugged and another thought seemed to snag his attention, "Who would have thought that out of everyone in the known galaxies you'd be related to him." He grinned, "Though I guess I should have figured that out. It would certainly explain the weird Jedi stuff," he waggled his fingers and chuckled.

Luke's jaw tensed and he forced himself to relax as he drew on the soothing comfort of the Force. Wedge hadn't meant anything by it. A lack of understanding was normal. It should have been expected.

" _People will_ always _fear anything they do not understand,"_ Irys' accented voice taunted him and he shoved that down too.

He _really_ needed to meditate. His mood had been completely irregular lately, and he felt like his own mind was turning against him.

If only he could do it properly. It had been so much easier on Dagobah. No sentient minds and emotions to distract and influence him. It was only his own mind and Yoda's wise and calm presence.

The other presences in the hangar - in the entire base really - began to feel like they were pressing in on him calling for his attention, and Luke felt a sudden an irrational and almost primal _need_ to lash out at the other presences and just _make them shut up._

His body hummed with energy that cried for release, and it was only the pain of his fingernails digging into his clenched left palm that allowed him to think clearly enough to realize where his turbulent thoughts were taking him. He abruptly turned away from Wedge and scrubbed at his forehead with the heels of his grease blackened hand while he fought to settle his emotions and the Force that thrummed through him like adrenaline.

Strength. Wild and untamed.  
Like a current.

He felt the Force ripple around him and he abruptly turned to snatch Wedge's hand from its path to his shoulder and immediately shoved the hand away even as Wedge cried out in pain, energy arcing between them even with the short contact.

"Don't touch me right now," Luke hissed in what might have been worry or animosity, his voice cracking from the feel of the untamed waves of energy surging to crackle over his skin. Oddly it didn't hurt, but he knew he needed to stop it because it had hurt Wedge. Whatever _it_ was.

"What the _hell_ is going on Luke?!" Wedge scowled, "What are you _doing_?" He shook his hand and flexed it with a wince.

"Not my fault," Luke grit out and focused on his ragged breathing in an attempt to ignore the gathering crowd and its chaotic emotions in favour of the tempest that his own had become.

_It was all their fault he couldn't meditate. Too many emotions. Too close._

_He could make it all stop. He knew it. He knew. It would be easy._

_He WANTED to._

His nails dug deeper into his palm and it was barely enough to pull him back from an edge he didn't know how he had reached.

_No. He was better than this._

He tried desperately to reach for some semblance of calm but the current spiked through him and his back arched, the sudden intense pain making him scream, though no noise left him.

The agony continued in waves for what felt like eternity. No thoughts, just painful sensory overload.

Then...

' _You shouldn't bottle up your emotions Luke dear. You know better than that,'_ Aunt Beru's soft voice somehow loud as it echoed through his mind from the past, but instead of filling him with sorrow it just made him angry.

He nearly felt the vitriol climb up his throat and his next thought lashed across his consciousness causing his face warp into a snarl, "Shut up you kriffing farm-bitch!"

Suddenly everything felt like it screeched to a halt. Roaring filled his ears as the energy abruptly drained out of him leaving him feeling weak.

His eyes widened.

_Oh Force._

His breathing sped up and he twisted his fingers into his hair and pulled harshly. Why had he thought that? Had he said it aloud? He couldn't even tell. Distantly he felt a tentative hand touch his shoulder and pull back quickly before it returned and settled down on his shoulder. After a moment the hand shook him gently.

A voice swirled into his thoughts, "Luke? Luke, can you hear me?" He looked up haltingly and focused.

Wedge. Loyal, good Wedge.

Luke pulled his hands out of his hair without untangling it, yanking strands free as he did so, and gripped at Wedge's shoulder desperately, "Something's wrong with me. Stars. Oh stars, oh stars," he mumbled weakly, his voice small, like a youngling's.

Wedge pulled him closer, supporting him awkwardly and hushed him, "It'll be alright Luke. Whatever it is it'll be okay."

Luke's frantic breathing gradually slowed into hiccups making him laugh bitterly, "A wanna-be Jedi with hiccups. You've gotta be kidding me."

Luke looked over at Wedge as the man took on a faux serious expression and spoke, "It's a good thing we're the only ones here, imagine what hiccups would do for your reputation as a mystical Force user."

Luke barely managed to crack a smile at the man's attempt to lighten the situation as he looked around the hangar. He realized his friend must have cleared the hangar of onlookers at some point.

How had he doubted his friend?

He avoided thinking of the implications and sighed as he shifted away from the other man uncomfortably, "Thank you."

Wedge shrugged, "Scaring off the masses is one of the many skills I have to offer with my friendship."

Luke huffed lightly feeling the ghost of amusement as he attempted to stand with a groan, "Force, whatever that was I feel like bantha fodder,"

The older pilot frowned, "We should probably get you to a medic. Are you sure you should be standing?"

Luke's eyes widened at the mention of a medic, the last thing he needed right now was for this to be on his health record before leading a squad in a mission, "I'll be fine, I just need to meditate."

Wedge's frown deepened, "Call me crazy, but I don't think that was just a Force thing. Come on, I know a medic. She'll be discreet."

Luke swallowed dryly, unable to meet his friend's gaze. He hesitated for a moment and licked his dry lips before he nodded jerkily, "Fine, if it makes you feel better."

Wedge made a show of rolling his eyes as he clasped Luke by the shoulders and half supported, half pushed Luke in the direction of the hangar door, "Believe me, it does. We don't need you going around and shocking people on accident."

Luke worried at his lower lip with his teeth, oddly twitchy despite feeling grim, "Yeah, that was new. I don't know what happened." A muscle in Luke's leg spasmed and he barely kept himself from falling as he caught himself on a wall.

"Karking hells," he breathed as the spasm stopped and Wedge helped prop him back up.

"Don't even _try_ and say you don't need a medic now Skywalker," Wedge said, his voice serious, "Whatever happened, _something_ is obviously wrong."

Luke grimaced and nodded, his left hand spasming slightly as they continued down the ship's halls. As they drew closer to their destination Luke tentatively reached out to the Force to help support himself, but his focus quickly faltered as tremors started going through his body.

Wedge looked at him, his worry clear in his expression, and cursed, "Come on Luke, just a bit further."

Luke nodded, his teeth chattering as chills danced across his body. By the time they reached the medic's wing Luke was being wracked with spasms, and his body felt heavy. Luke was barely aware of being dragged into a room and being put on a cot before Wedge suddenly reappeared with a middle aged Mirialan, her green skin and facial tattoos standing out to him even in his current state.

The woman took one look at him and shot questions at Wedge rapidly, though Luke wasn't able to understand what she was saying. He was distantly aware of her as she checked his vitals and even more distantly he felt the sting of a hypospray.

Suddenly his muscles un-tensed and he drew in a deep grateful breath realizing that he didn't know when he had last been able to draw in air. As whatever she had injected him with kicked in he felt like his body was becoming a limp puddle even as his muscles screamed in pain from the abuse they had been put through. For several long minutes he focused on nothing but breathing and the slight tremor that remained in his limbs. Finally he opened his eyes to see a clearly agitated red-headed Mirialan standing beside his black-haired friend who looked like he had aged from worry somewhere between the hangar and the medbay.

The woman clearly noticed he was finally lucid, " _How_ in the _Nine Corellian Hells_ did you get electrocuted?" she snapped, "And _twice_ in the recent past for that matter?!"

Luke winced at her tone and tried so speak around the weak feeling that permeated his body, wincing at the stab of pain that indicated he had bitten his tongue at some point. It hadn't swollen badly yet, but he knew it would get worse, "Ah, my droid kind of electrocuted me the othe-"

She cut him off abruptly, "Your droid did _what_?! Droids aren't supposed to harm their masters! That thing should be scrapped if its programming is that skewed." Luke could feel her indignant irritation radiating off of her accompanied by a building pain.

He snatched himself back from the Force with a wince before he shook his head, "No, it was trying to help me."

She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him, her violet eyes flashing, "And electrocution helped you _how_?"

"I have Force visions I can't get out of sometimes," he muttered cagily.

"Right. And somehow _electricity_ is the solution? You're lucky you didn't have a heart attack _then_ because you certainly appear to have had one today, and you nearly went into shock on top of it!" she snapped. Luke cringed as she turned to Wedge, "And you have no idea how he was electrocuted today?"

Wedge shrugged helplessly, "One second he was fine, the next he went sort of quiet. I tried to check on him and he freaked out." A brief flicker of what might have been fear crossed his expression, "Luke only touched me for a second and the shock made my hand go numb for a few minutes. I've never seen anything like it."

Luke cringed under their questioning gaze, "It was the Force. I don't know what happened though, it's never done _that_."

The woman sighed, "Well that's just bizarre. I don't claim to know much about the Force, I was raised away from my people's home planet, but I know it's pretty dependent on the user's state of mind. What were you thinking about?"

Luke immediately clammed up, "Just stuff."

The woman snorted, "Right, and I'm going to grow fur and turn into a wookie. I know evasion when I hear it." She continued to glare at him until he finally spoke.

"Nothing good," he muttered and she nodded with a tisking sound.

"You're the one that joined right after his parents died and immediately blew up a million Imperials then proceeded to jump right back into the fighting," she stated bluntly.

Luke felt as if he was shrinking in on himself, "Um… pretty much. It was my Aunt and Uncle, but I guess you're right otherwise."

She shrugged, "They raised you though, right?" He nodded and she continued, "I've seen my fair share of people like you and almost every single one of them has Post Traumatic Stress. It's dangerous enough for them, and for those around them when they get sent out to fight. If you mix the Force with that?" She shook her head, her short bobbed hair rustling with the motion, "What you really need is a psychological evaluation."

Luke blanched, "I'm sure it's not that bad. I just need to meditate. I haven't had the chance to lately."

She eyed him, her sharp violet eyes seeming to look into him and read his emotional state like a book. He wondered if she might be Force sensitive in her own species' way, "Somehow I doubt you haven't had the time," she muttered and sighed as she ran her hand across her brow. "Look, I get that you're not exactly in a position that you can take a break from, especially not when we're starting a mission in just over two days, but between now and then I need you to take some time to relax. Hang out with some friends, watch a holodrama, meditate, whatever you think will help you, because if the Force is damaging you when you're stressed that can't mean anything good."

She turned to Wedge, "If he gets worse you better _make_ him go see someone. I don't care if he wants it or not, you're his friend. Take care of him or _I_ will."

Luke felt a flicker of irritation and chastised himself, she was only trying to help. A ghost of the earlier pain echoed through him and he suppressed a moan.

Wedge smiled grimly, "Thank you Tululi, you're the best."

The woman clicked her tongue in disagreement, "If I were the best he would be on bed-rest and seeing a mind-healer within the day. War makes things less simple." She sighed and returned her attention to Luke, "You're going to be sore for the next few days, but the muscle relaxer I included in the hypo should help with that. You're lucky whatever happened didn't last longer. The readout didn't show any serious damage to your organs or bone decalcification, but if this happens more than once I wouldn't be surprised if it started to cause damage of that magnitude."

Luke nodded seriously, "Thank you for this Miss Tululi. And thank you for not telling anyone."

She pursed her lips in disapproval, "Don't thank me for that, I'm stepping over the line into malpractice here. I'm staying quiet because Wedge is a good friend of mine and because there might be some Jedi solution to what's wrong with you. Do _not_ make me regret this." She looked at him sternly, "Now get going before you get seen. If you need anything Wedge knows my comlink frequency."

Luke nodded and slid gingerly off of the cot, "Sorry to cause you trouble ma'am."

She rolled her eyes, "Go on before I think better of all of this and put it in the records." She paused and smiled in an almost wolfish manner, "Or strap you to the bed and treat you properly."

Luke recoiled from the idea, "Right. Let's get going Wedge." He turned and exited the room with Wedge trailing behind him, both silent and on edge for several minutes as they made their way to the residential part of the base.

As they neared his room Luke spoke quietly, his voice subdued, "Thanks Wedge, you probably saved my life."

Wedge tried for a smile, "Oh good, that's one less I owe you."

Luke managed a slight smile as well at the man's attempt to lighten the mood.

Wedge really was a good friend.

"By the way I'm not letting you out of my sight for at _least_ a week," the older man pointed out with a smirk.

Luke stared at him blankly for a moment feeling the sudden urge to bang his head on the wall, "Sithspit."

* * *

Irys Arr'ojia stepped quickly away from the medbay, her booted feet barely a whisper on the metal floor despite her species' enhanced hearing, as she made her way smoothly towards the forward section of the _Corellia's Luck_. She made several turns before she arrived at her destination and hit the door chime alerting the person behind the door that she was there. Her posture subtly shifted and straightened to match her contact's expectations of professionalism as she waited.

When the door slid open it revealed the sharp features of the blonde ex-imperial officer turned Alliance Supreme Commander, and she nodded at him in greeting. He returned the nod and spoke, his voice kurt, "Come in Agent Iris. I take it you have something that needs to be passed along to the Council?"

"Indeed," she replied with a tone that matched his, a slight rippling in her fur the only sign of her nerves as she stepped inside his quarters and the door shut behind her. She stepped no further than the entryway and fell into a loose parade rest as his piercing eyes watched her.

"And what precisely is it that you wish to pass along? It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the rumours already spreading about an incident revolving around Lieutenant Commander Skywalker in the hangar would it? I was considering having it investigated."

Irys nodded crisply, "You are correct Sir, it is information about that occurrence. I have been passively observing him as I was instructed and was in the vicinity when it happened. Visually it appeared as though Commander Skywalker was having something similar to a seizure, however when Wedge Antilles touched him momentarily it appeared to injure the other man. In addition Skywalker's reaction to Antilles' attempted contact was far faster than the normal reflexes expected in a human. He appeared to react before Antilles had even begun to reach toward him, likely preventing Antilles from further injury due to prolonged contact. At that point Antilles began clearing the hangar and I was forced to relocate to a distance that would not attract attention. At one point Skywalker yelled something, but the hangar distorted his words.

"When I next saw both of them leaving the hangar Skywalker appeared to be physically weakened and agitated. I followed them discreetly to the medical bay, though I was unable to get close during the interaction that occurred in the room without risk of detection. The room is assigned to a Mirialan female medic named Tululi Jifu. Upon slicing into her system it became apparent that she had not logged anything in relation to the interaction, however the most recent readings registered in the bio-scanner showed evidence of recent electrocution and a likely Myocardial Infarction, known colloquially as a heart attack."

The information seemed to spark something in the stoic man's eyes and though he did not allow his expression to change Irys easily identified it as a satisfied determination. Given what she knew of the man's history and personality she doubted that her information was going to make it back to the High Council. She filed the information away in her mind passively. The possibility was to be expected and now was not the time to appear distracted by her thoughts.

The man inclined his head slightly in a nod before he spoke, "This is certainly something that will need to be considered. Given what you know do you believe he is capable to continue functioning as the Commander of the Rogues for this mission?"

Already expecting the question Irys spoke, her answer planned prior to reaching the man's cabin, "Given what I know of Jedi regenerative abilities combined with modern medicine he has sufficient time to recover before we leave hyperspace. The only unknown that requires consideration at this time is the cause of the incident; I strongly suggest investigation to determine the cause, the likelihood of repeated occurrences, and ways to prevent such an occurrence from happening again. I feel confident that barring another incident such as this Lieutenant Commander Skywalker will be fit for duty."

The man appeared to contemplate her words before nodding again, "In that case we shall proceed as planned with the mission. Continue to monitor him and attain what information about today's events that you can. Your new assignment to his squad should aid in your information gathering capacity."

"Yes Sir, it will allow for my investigations to be far more in-depth," she affirmed. "I will take full advantage of the situation to gather useful information."

The serious man smiled slightly, his eyes giving away that was clearly forced, "Thank you for the information and your discretion as always Agent Iris."

Irys brought her feet together and bowed slightly at the waist before straightening her stance again, "As you are aware I do no more than what my duty to my people and my clan has required of me in my interactions with the Alliance. Any thanks that you may have shall be conveyed to the Bothan Council should you wish it." She saw a definite flash of distaste towards the way her species functioned and knew it was because he believed her people had no loyalty to anything aside from money - much like mercenaries and bounty hunters. She did not allow it to bother her; few cared enough to learn about the society she was born into.

"You may pass my compliments on to your Council," he stated dryly. "If that is all then you may go Agent."

Irys executed a smooth about-face and strode out of the room as soon as he had palmed the sliding door open. The door hissed shut behind her and she walked off in the direction of her assigned quarters, her brisk stride taking her deep into the bowels of the vessel. The further she moved from the man's hallway the more her stance relaxed, though her footsteps remained inaudible to human ears.

She smiled slightly to herself. That had gone well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As you can probably guess I've been busy. I'm moving and it's thrown a wrench in the works of… well… everything.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this chapter turned out well since I wrote the rough-draft for the beginning of it all at once and the later parts quite a few days (read: weeks) later.
> 
> As per usual I remain un-beta'd.
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- Yes, Irys and Tulilu are both OCs
> 
> \- R2-D2 apparently has a head-dress detangler, a flea remover, an inflatable mattress, and a jukebox included in his many strange "enhancements" over the time of the EU (now Legends)
> 
> \- Hyposprays span across more than just the Star Wars universe, and in fact appear to originate from the Star Trek universe to avoid the use of hypodermic needles on television (for two fandoms that appear to be at odds so often it's just an interesting tidbit)


	8. Quiescent

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

_Quiescent_

In a quiet intersection of hallways where one hall terminated perpendicularly against another, a small viewport that glowed with the light of hyperspace illuminated the furred face and petite figure of the only Bothan aboard the ship. Irys stood, contributing little sound to the empty passages, and watched the nebulous swirls of hyperspace as the ship rushed towards their destination. She reached up and brushed a strand of her shoulder-length brunette hair out of her eyes before shoving her hand back into the pocket of her dull brown duster jacket, the bottom of it brushing against her thighs as she shivered. Her slightly slouched shoulders and rumpled bedclothes made her appear more approachable than she usually did, but she didn't mind.

She sighed lightly, her breath ghosting in the air in front of her, and she wrapped the jacket around herself more tightly. The ship was running its heating system, but this close to the edge of the vessel it was rarely much above freezing in the halls. They were getting close, she had realized as the temperature had begun to plummet hours before. It was creeping toward the middle of the night-cycle, she knew, and most of the other sentients on the ship were sleeping aside from those required to man the ship during the graveyard shift. Even so, she knew she had very little chance of going back to sleep now, not after _that_ dream, so instead she focused on centering her thoughts in her own form of meditation. She needed to be calm and collected for the mission in the morning - anything else was a liability.

After several minutes of quietly ordering her thoughts she glanced at her chrono and noticed a small green light subtly winking at her. She smiled, Skywalker's cabin lights were on. Perhaps her night wouldn't be a total waste. Irys reached into another pocket and pulled out her com-link. With a quick tap she turned on the record function and spoke, her usual clipped tone somewhat softened with her lack of sleep, and her accent slightly stronger for it, "Commander Skywalker, given the quickly approaching mission, I would like to meet with Rogue Squadron to acquaint myself with them at your earliest convenience, especially Antilles as the three of us will be flying in a group." She paused for a short moment in thought then smiled, "Also, don't forget the story you owe me."

With an abrupt click she cut off the recording before she keyed in his com-channel and sent it. Since she knew he was already awake - barring the possibility that he fell asleep with his lights on - the sudden chime of her com-link receiving a message didn't surprise her.

She clicked the playback button allowing his soft drawl to fill the air around her, "I'd ask how you got my com-channel, but I think I can figure that out on my own. I guess you're having trouble sleeping too huh? Wedge and I are in my quarters if you wanna drop by." Irys smiled; that had worked out perfectly.

She looked down at her clothes and contemplated changing for a moment before she shook her head, her hair brushing against her shoulders. She would get more information as she was. The more imperfect she appeared, the more 'human' she would seem to Skywalker, and the more he would ignore her purpose of information gathering. It had nothing to do with the comfort of these clothes, her curiosity about the story, or her lingering uneasiness from her nightmare.

_More memory than dream._

She turned from the viewport determinedly and padded silently through the halls following paths she had memorized until she reached Skywalker's quarters and reached toward the button for the door-chime only to have the door hiss open before she had the chance to touch it. She twitched slightly, startled, and then smirked. Apparently the Jedi in training felt he had something to prove after not sensing her presence the other day. She stepped across the threshold into the warmth of the room and reassessed her assumption upon seeing his smug features.

_Or he's just messing with me._

Irys grinned, already feeling like she was back in her element, her dream fading. Two could play at that game.

"I see the baby Jedi knows some tricks," she teased causing the blonde to scowl at her from his position on the bed, and the older black haired man sitting on the desk chair to roar in laughter. She leaned against the wall and quirked her eyebrows. That was probably the best first impression she could have hoped for.

* * *

Luke glowered at his friend and heaved a sigh. He shouldn't be this annoyed, but he was going stir crazy and it didn't help that Wedge had held to his promise and hadn't left him alone _or_ let him move an inch from his bed aside from using the restroom and the sonic shower. The com-message from Arr'ojia had been a welcome change of pace despite the fact that he didn't trust her further than he could throw her without the Force.

Wedge gave his friend a light nudge with his elbow, "Where'd you find this chick? I like her, she's got spunk."

Luke rolled his eyes. Spunk? The man _had_ to be joking. Before he could decide how to explain the Bothan Agent, she spoke up.

"Most people call me Iris," she inclined her head slightly in greeting. "I've been assigned by the Bothan Council to help out the Alliance. I ended up being assigned to the Rogues as a supplemental mission so that I can attain more information. As to how Skywalker here found me?" She grinned mischievously, "Well he _did_ try to slam a refrigeration unit door into me."

Luke's eyes narrowed as his Wedge jokingly berated him about the proper way to greet a woman. She had managed to mislead his friend completely without telling a single lie; she was good. He momentarily thought about telling Wedge the truth, but realized that unspoken though the term to their deal had been, breaking her cover would put an end to it.

Instead he just huffed and grumbled playing along, "Come off it Wedge, it's not _that_ funny."

Wedge snorted, "Maybe not to you."

Luke looked at Irys and adopted a put-upon look, "Look at what you've done now." He released an exaggerated sigh and gestured towards the other male, "As you can probably guess, this son-of-a-bantha is my wingman Wedge Antilles."

"Hey!" Wedge cut in trying to appear offended, but Luke could sense the man's humour vaguely, only the minor stinging sensation that accompanied it reminded him of the pain that using the Force had caused him the previous day while he was recovering. Fortunately as his body healed so had his connection with the energy field.

Luke ploughed on as if Wedge hadn't even spoken, "He's not usually this annoying, but he's insisted on being here to 'nurse me back to health.' Between you and me I'm pretty sure he's got cabin fever and just won't admit it."

"Hey!" Wedge interjected again, this time a touch of irritation tinging his amusement.

Luke saw Irys cover her mouth to stifle a chuckle and he snorted; whether she was putting on an act or not she was certainly endearing herself quite well and would probably get along with the other members of the Rogues with very little effort. In fact, he looked at her more closely, if he hadn't seen her in a perfectly pressed intel uniform with her hair pulled into a tightly controlled ponytail, and a militant stance to match, he probably wouldn't have seen past her current (shockingly normal) appearance. When he really thought about it, he was lucky he saw her in the meeting, and perhaps even _more_ fortunate that she had confronted him in the way that she had in the kitchen; if she hadn't he would have been completely blindsided by her. He grimaced inwardly as he realized that this was especially true because of how easily she could mask the reasons behind her emotions. She could have integrated her way into the Rogues easily without him knowing the danger.

_So then why did she give herself away? She wouldn't have done it without reason._

He tucked the thought away for later consideration as he realized Wedge was talking to him.

"Oi, Luke! Landing Control to Luke!" The man waved his arm in front of Luke and Luke shook his head lightly to bring himself back to the moment.

"Sorry, I was just thinking, what'd I miss?"

Wedge grinned, "I'll say. Iris over here was telling me you owed her a story and I want in. I was getting sick and tired of watching you reading that holo-book about binary anyway."

Luke looked down at the datapad lying discarded across his lap then looked back at Wedge, "It's not like I'm _making_ you stay here. That's all on you."

The Corellian grumbled and kicked his feet up on the desk and rocked the chair back on its rear legs. It distinctly reminded Luke of the Captain of the Millennium Falcon and sent a pained twinge through him. A story would definitely be good right about now he decided, even if it had its own pain associated with it.

He flicked the datapad off before he gestured toward Irys, "Come on you can sit on the foot of the bed, standing can't be that comfortable." Luke shifted his feet over as Irys joined him and curled up her legs beside herself at the base of the bed.

"Thank you," she commented as she got settled.

He nodded, "I'm not sure if this will be all that interesting, but you wanted to know so, here goes nothing." He shrugged and settled back against his pillows, "As she already knows I had just turned sixteen a few months before it happened." He gestured toward Irys and she nodded, "Uncle Owen had let me start driving on my sixteenth birthday," he spoke, the memory of his excitement from the time helping to off-set the rising pain that came with the mention of his Uncle. "I used to want to fly the landspeeder whenever the opportunity came up, and even when we didn't need to. I'm pretty sure I was driving Uncle Owen spare because of it," Luke smiled and chuckled lightly recalling his Uncle's dishevelled look whenever Luke has asked him if he could take the speeder in to town. "He used to get on to me all the time about fuel not coming out of the air. I was impossible to reason with of course. Even being a couple feet off the ground was exhilarating for me. Controlling the speeder, dodging obstacles, the dry wind blowing through my hair, I lived for it. I drove too fast, even in something as simple as a landspeeder, and if I could avoid going on the flattened areas I did. Uncle Owen hated it, he was always a very safe and practical driver, and he told me more than once that riding with me nearly gave him a heart attack," Luke grinned.

Wedge snorted, "No surprise there."

Luke shrugged, "True enough." He sank back further into the pillows and drifted off into memory as he spoke.

"I used to visit Biggs all the time at the Darklighter homestead," he smiled briefly, the memories sweetly bitter. "We were best friends and surprisingly similar despite our different circumstances. His family was rich you see - business in a land of farmers - and my family was never more than barely getting by. The few other kids around our age always seemed to resent him for it, but I never did." He paused and tilted his head, "Or maybe I did, but I didn't let it control me." He looked at the other two, his gaze intense, "The Darklighters you know? In the end I couldn't ever really hold anything against them, not when they were the most honest business people in that part of the planet." Luke smirked, "Not saying they weren't shrewd about what they did, it _was_ Tatooine after all."

Irys chuckled, "I imagine the completely honest are used like doormats."

Luke nodded, "Unfortunately." He smiled grimly, "Kids have to grow up fast on Tatooine, though Aunt Beru and Biggs' mother did a good job of protecting us from the worst of it for years. We were about as innocent as Tatooine children come. In fact I think the first time we really began to experience Tatooine was on the racing circuit. Not that my Aunt or Uncle and Biggs' parents knew what we were up to obviously," Luke shook his head with a grin. "Gambling, drugs, prostitution, slavery, everything was there, and like with anything new we were completely fascinated," he grimaced. "Disturbed by some of it obviously, but still entranced despite it all. I remember watching my first race. I had a harch halfway in my lap it was so crowded, and by rights I should have been miserable, but all I could think of was how much fun the race looked." Luke smiled, a distant look in his eyes, "I remember looking at Biggs with probably the goofiest grin on my face and telling him we _had_ to race."

Wedge rolled his eyes, "You would. I bet you were impossible after that."

"I might've had a hard time keeping my mouth shut, yeah," Luke shrugged. "Uncle Owen heard me talking about the circuits once and nearly had a bantha right then." He snorted, "Obviously I was more careful after that. Had to be if I wanted to keep going to the races."

Luke shifted slightly and continued, "It wasn't long before Biggs was able to convince his parents to get him a T-16 in exchange for the both of us helping out around his parent's property when we could. They never really asked much of me since they knew how busy I was back home even if it was the off-season." His breath hitched slightly at the mention of his Aunt and Uncle's homestead. Even after four plus years he still saw the little patch of land and buildings as home, and the reminder of everything he had lost there twisted at his gut. He dug his fingers into his thighs through the bedding, then forced himself to loosen his grip. He couldn't let the present ruin his memories.

Luke released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and continued, the other two quietly allowing his slip to pass without remark, "Whenever I visited, if I wasn't fixing something around the ranch, I was modifying the T-16 or practicing with it." He smiled wryly, "Even if it wasn't really mine I still wanted it to be the best I could make it, and Biggs let me tinker with it without hesitation." He focused on the other two for a moment, "I've always been good with machines. I can't remember a time that I wasn't messing with some project or another, especially around the farm. Uncle Owen was certainly grateful for it, and Biggs definitely didn't mind me putting my skills to use."

Luke's mind shifted forward and away from the other two again, "All that time we continued to watch races and practice, but we quickly realized it would be next to impossible to get into the official races. Every racer had a sponsor, and Jabba oversaw it all. No one was gonna pick up two young teens and bet on them. I remember I was about to give up in despair when we learned about the illegal circuits. Disorganized, outside of Hutt jurisdiction, dangerous, but most important to us: anyone could enter if they had the peggats to put toward the pot." He shook his head, his hair rustling quietly, "That it took us so long to realize there were illegal circuits just shows how ignorant we still were, but we started learning fast. If the legal races were a breeding ground for vice, these races drowned in it. It might've been hell if flying didn't feel like heaven, and we pinched every trugut and wupiupi we had until we had enough for the entry fee."

"Biggs raced the first time in a part of the Judland Wastes," he chuckled, "I screamed my voice raw that night. Aunt Beru thought I had caught something while I was in town, but it was worth it. He was a first time racer on new terrain and had to put up with some pretty nasty tricks, but he still came in second place. I was beyond proud." His eyes almost glowed with the memory, "Second place didn't win anything monetary, but it got us a discount on our next race fee. After that it wasn't long before we were back, only this time I was racing. It was," he paused and drew in a breath with his eyes closed as a smile crept across his face, "Exhilarating." Luke opened his eyes, "I don't think I ever feel more alive than when I'm flying with my life and victory on the line."

_Adrenaline and yet a strange calm; heart racing, steady hands_

_He can feel everything, more than he could ever see. The skyhopper hums with energy that simply becomes a part of him. His life, his success, is in his own hands, and it is almost euphoric._

_He could never stay a farmer after this._

"I won that race - and most others when I wasn't sabotaged - and Biggs got better all the time. Some people asked why I let him race when my chances at winning were higher, but really they just didn't get it. We weren't there for the money, though it certainly was a perk. We were doing it for fun, for the experience, and for the rush when we won."

"I would imagine not doing something for money on Tatooine was outlandish to most," Irys comment.

Luke nodded in agreement, "Pretty much. Unfortunately our abilities didn't really make us any friends, so when Jabba's men finally caught up with the circuit we got ratted out right away as a scapegoat for the entire thing. The next time we were out alone practicing in the wastes we ended up surrounded by a bunch of Jabba's goons."

" _Go Biggs!" Luke bellows, his voice cracking._

" _No! Not without you!" Biggs snaps back, his face red with his stubbornness._

_Luke's eyes harden, "Shut up and just kriffing GO! I can handle myself!"_

To this day he didn't know what his friend had seen in his expression, but whatever it was Biggs had left.

"Biggs had been the one flying at the time, so I told him to run while he could. He wasn't too happy about it, but he went, yelling about coming back to kick my ass if I wasn't home before the suns set. Then I was surrounded completely, but I could see some of them about to break off and fly after him."

He laughed shortly, his palms damp at the memory of his fear, "I had to distract them, but all I had was a hydrospanner. I felt crazy as I jumped one of the guys on a speeder, and they must have thought it too, because I managed to get a few good hits in before they reacted. After that it didn't take long before I ended up cuffed and eating sand. By then though, Biggs was gone. They weren't very happy about that."

 _A trandoshan drags him up painfully by his hair, "Where was he going?" The voice is gravel and Luke simply laughs and shakes his head even as some part of him wonders where he got the audacity. The male, and it has to be a male given its markings, shakes him roughly by the hair, and kark how that_ _**hurts** _ **.** _He rolls the sand around his mouth with what little saliva he has and spits it in the being's eyes, "You can kiss my ass."_

' _They must have hit my head too hard,' he thinks incredulously, 'otherwise I've got to be going insane.'_

_Clearly the trandoshan agrees because the next thing he knows he is facedown on the ground again being dragged by his feet as the coarse sand scrapes harshly at his skin, "Try that attitude with Jabba and see how it goes," the lizard-man growls as he slings Luke over the back of his speeder bike._

_Hanging off the edges of a speeder bike at high speed is high on the list of things he_ _ **never**_ _wants to do again._

"It was my bad luck that Jabba was visiting Anchorhead, and they ended up dragging me all the way to Jabba's main racing circuit in that area to see him in person. Jabba is notoriously hard to get an audience with since he usually leaves his affairs to delegates, yet there I was getting dragged into his audience chambers." Luke rolled his eyes, "Apparently illegal racing is something he takes personally." Luke drifted off into thought, "I had never been more afraid in my life, and even now it's still up there. I thought I was going to die," he paused quietly, "Or worse."

_Heart beating like a womp rat's_

_Tugging at the shackles_

_Useless_

_Heavy haze in the air_

_Am I contact high?_

_Disoriented_

_Slitted pupils in eyes with no morals_

_Glistening rolls of mottled fat_

_Short arms grasping for anything they can_

_And a stomach bigger than life to consume it with_

_Consume his freedom_

_So this is the Skywalker trash that dares to steal from me. Jabba's voice sounds deep like the shifting of tectonic plates._

_Luke shakes his head even as the trandoshan nods._

"It got a bit muddled after that with all the spice in the air. I know Jabba was talking about me and any time I tried to talk he acted like I said nothing. In hardly any time he decided I was guilty and was debating on killing me or using me as a slave. Then there were two rifle blasts and the entire room erupted into motion. The next thing I remember seeing was Uncle Owen standing in the doorway demanding I be set free, like the most insane and unassuming badass on that side of the galaxy, with our old carbine blaster pointed at Jabba and at least two dozen blasters pointed back at him."

"Damn, your Uncle had guts storming in on a hutt like that," Wes said with a whistle of appreciation.

"Perhaps," Irys laughed lightly, "Or he was just a very protective guardian. People do crazy things when their loved ones are in danger."

Luke huffed out a wry laugh, "Oh it was definitely crazy. I thought I was hallucinating until I realized that the air was clearing up through the open door. Luckily it worked well enough to hold off everyone from shooting while they waited for instructions."

As he continued to describe his memories he found himself swept up in them himself.

_Surely he is seeing things_

_Uncle Owen is too practical for this_

_A gust of wind; the air is clearing_

_Almight Jabba, this man has killed the door guards, what do we do? An agitated rodian asks._

_The hutt waves his stubby arm with a jiggle as if this entire situation is nothing, but Luke can tell he is nervous from the subtle twitching of the obese being's features. Kill him._

_Luke blinks, the command taking a half moment to process before he bellows, NO! his voice harsh with the language of the hutts and panic._

_The hutt holds up its arm to stop the others from firing and for the first time the hutt focuses solely on him, You know this criminal? The hutt hides it well, but it is clearly relieved that he didn't have to test Uncle Owen's speed on the trigger._

_Luke, if anything, is even more relieved, but he can't let it show. He won't._

_He draws in a breath clear of spice smoke, his head thankfully clearing quickly, and steels himself as much as he knows how. He has to focus. He can't afford to stumble over words now._

_He nods in response to the hutt's question, and with a deliberate choice to show his status as an educated and free sentient he begins speaking in careful and concise Basic instead of Huttese, drawing on everything he remembers learning from school and from his Aunt, "Almighty Jabba, I, and my racing associate have done you great wrongs that we deserve to be punished for; however this man," he points toward his Uncle, "was only trying to pay back a debt that he owes me, and his attempt to rescue me has reminded me that I am a coward and do not want to die." He forces a grim smile, darkened further by the mood in the room, "Whether he kills you or not, he and I will both end up dead, so I have a proposition for your life, my life and freedom as well as his and the other individual that I raced with. In addition, I do not wish for their families to pay for our mistakes, so the proposal would also include the safety and freedom of their families as well."_

_The hutt glowers at him, yet seems dumbfounded by Luke's audacity._

_So is Luke._

_Now it is the hutt's turn to speak, And this… proposal?_

_Luke inclines his neck in the barest of bows, keeping his eyes on the situation, "In exchange for stopping him from pulling that trigger now," the next words come more easily as he returns to the more familiar territory of a formal challenge, "I would challenge your best racers to a skyhopper race. All safety restrictions lifted; the time and place would be of your choosing. Should you accept, my terms are as previously stated."_

_Now the hutt is leering at him as his tongue slides across his worm-like lips past the remains of his last snack caked to the corners of his mouth. Greed shines deep in his eyes, You are a fool._

_Luke shrugs as nonchalantly as he is able, "Perhaps." The hutt is right. No sane sentient would willingly participate in a race style so dangerous that only slaves are forced to compete in it._

_Unfortunately he isn't feeling very sane._

_The hutt's laughter rumbles through the room like indigestion, Very well Skywalker. You only prolong the inevitable, and I have my own terms. I will need the name of your racing associate so that he can be considered as part of the bet. He will also need to bring your vehicle._

_Luke grits his teeth; he had hoped to protect Biggs' identity until after the race, "Darklighter. Biggs Darklighter."_

_A Darklighter hmm? The hutt chortles, each laugh a deep resonating boom, and Luke sees the greed sharpen further in his eyes._

_Not good._

_He nods in agreement scrambling to do damage control while holding a straight face, "Yes Almighty Jabba, he is a son of the Darklighters who run their business here in Anchorhead. He is in no position to inherit the business and does not have any influence within his family, however he has been useful to me and it would be unfair of me to leave him and his family unprotected if it is within my ability to help them."_

_The hutt eyes him shrewdly, but doesn't seem to catch Luke's lie about Biggs' importance in the Darklighter family. Luke inwardly heaves a sigh of relief as the hutt speaks again appearing irritated that Biggs could not be used as some form of leverage against the influential family._

_I see. The hutt appears to ponder for a moment, If you win I will allow this man to be freed, he gestures toward Uncle Owen with his short arm, In addition, he, Biggs Darklighter, and both of their families will remain untouched by myself and those in my employ barring the commitment of further crimes that infringe upon my domain. If you lose, both of the two men, as well as this man's family will become my slaves. He closes his eyes in what might be disgust, The Darklighters are far too influential, and your associate is not of enough importance to them to hold his crimes against them, so the rest of his family shall remain free upon your loss._

_Luke tenses sharply. The hutt gangster had left a rather significant part out of the deal, and he knows that whatever comes next will not be good._

_As for you young Skywalker, in exchange for my generosity you will remain with me as a slave to insure that should you win, none of these individuals will attempt to break with this arrangement. The hutt's lips wormed their way into a grotesque smile. Do we have an agreement?_

_Luke swallows dryly, his thoughts spinning away from him in horror._

_His enslavement for the freedom of his Aunt, Uncle, Biggs, and the Darklighters._

_He looks over at his Uncle and his resolve hardens, his thoughts swirling back into place. It would be worth it if he could save them. With an effort he calms his features and turns back to face his fate, "Yes, Almighty Jabba. We do."_

_Call off your man, the hutt demands with all the authority of someone that had already won._

_Luke inclines his head then turns back to his Uncle and meets his conflicted gaze, "Lower your weapon Mister Lars."_

_His Uncle looks at him hesitantly and Luke feels something in his own gaze harden, "Lower your weapon Owen."_

_His Uncle's hands twitch and then slowly begin to lower the carbine blaster rifle, though Luke can see his jaw tense in frustration. Unable to watch anymore Luke abruptly turns back to the hutt and holds his breath, praying to the suns that the stories about hutts having their own brand of honour were true._

_Lower your weapons, the hutt rumbles, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Arrest the man. If they attempt anything stun them._

_Luke gulps dryly, holding his breath as they tear the blaster out of his Uncle's grasp, and doesn't release it until he is cuffed without incident._

_Place them in separate cells, the hutt says, waving his hand as he turns to his current Major Domo, and contact the Darklighters._

_The being bows and backs away reverently as Luke and his Uncle are marched away by a couple of Gamoreans that prod them occasionally with spears._

Luke drew himself from the memory of his long wait in the cell, "The wait was nerve wracking and boring at the same time. Nothing to do, but there was the persistent worry over how long it would take them to come for us. If there had been someone to talk to it would have been better, but all I had were my thoughts." He shook his head with a sigh, "It felt like forever before they came for me, and of course by the time they finally did I had fallen into a restless sleep." He laughed darkly, "They woke me up by kicking me in the side. Definitely a rude awakening."

"I've never heard of a hutt that was known for its hospitality," Wedge pointed out, his tone dryly sarcastic.

"Well they certainly would not get rich by being nice, would they?" Irys responded with an eye roll.

Luke shrugged, "When I got to the track the suns nearly blinded me after being kept in the dark for so long. The first thing I could really focus on was Biggs standing beside the T-16 in some of his best clothes trying to look dignified." Luke laughed, "I remember telling him he cleans up nice when he wants to. He immediately told me I looked like something the Sand People had dragged in."

"Gallows humour," Irys remarked dryly.

Luke nodded grimly, "We both knew we would be beyond lucky to get out of this. I was good, but I was about to attempt what most sentients call a death-race with a virtually unarmed skyhopper. Our 'hopper looked practically innocent near the other ones with all of their weapon modifications," he shook his head. "I remember seeing Aunt Beru in the stands near the start-point, and Uncle Owen being escorted towards us from the same entrance I had been brought through." Luke frowned, "They both were doing everything they could not to look terrified, but somehow I just knew they were."

"Not long after we got there they brought the other contestants out," he shuddered slightly, "Most of them looked like the husks of people: empty sunken eyes with no life of their own. The others though, they were the ones that had been twisted by circumstance until they enjoyed the whole thing. Those were almost worse because they had this insanity in their eyes like they didn't care if the got hurt so long as they could hurt someone else in the process." Luke rubbed his eyes tiredly, the late hour starting to get to him, "We all headed to our skyhoppers and started getting ready to start the race as the announcer read off a list of 'crimes' Biggs and I were being held guilty for, as well as the terms of the bet I had going with Jabba before going into the usual announcer spiel. I spent most of the pre-flight sequence wondering how the stadium had gotten so packed when the race had only been decided on the night before."

"Deathmatches have always had their own appeal to the masses," Irys stated darkly. "They have a primal allure that the more civilized sentients ignore."

"I figured that out pretty quickly and it wasn't the happiest of realizations. I was pretty bitter about it, though I didn't have much time to worry about it then. The takeoff timer was counting down before I could think too hard about anything and the next thing I knew we were off." He shook his head, "I should have been paying more attention to the other racers at the start because the first thing one of them did was shoot out my main heavy-duty laser cannon leaving me with the pneumatic cannons and nothing else. I had never bothered with installing any other weapons because we had only used the T-16 in races where it was against the rules to use weapons against each other. By that point I was really regretting that choice."

Wedge whistled, "Yeah, I can imagine."

Luke winced, "Yeah. Needless to say I was completely focused after that, and it was a good thing, because it only got worse from there. My only saving grace was the fact that none of the competition was trying to kill me early in the race; that only happened closer to the end as the number of racers decreased. I never got proof, but I'm pretty sure they were told to try and disable my ship so I wouldn't become damaged property," he smiled mirthlessly. "Toward the end was when they started taking the more deadly shots at me and trying to ram me into the terrain." Luke closed his eyes briefly and sighed wearily at the memory, "Up until that point in my life I had never been truly challenged, but the slaves I was racing against were all genuinely skilled otherwise they wouldn't have survived as long as they had. They _also_ had the added advantage of having far more _and_ better weaponry installed on their owners' skyhoppers. The entire situation was a mess, but I told myself to treat it like any other race, and that helped to calm me enough to focus on what was going on,. After that it was just sheer adrenaline. Like every race before, everything I didn't need to focus on faded away, and I started to feel more than see what was going on."

"You mentioned something similar earlier. Does this mean that even then you were able to connect with the Force unconsciously?" Irys asked, her tone curious.

"I guess so?" Luke shrugged, "I've kind of thought that for a while now." She nodded and he continued, "Eventually I ended up far more focused than I had ever been before, and at some point between having a skyhopper with nasty spikes on the edges of its lower airfoils trying to ram into me as we went around a switchback, and another one firing a some sort of torpedo of all things at me, I realized I was actually enjoying myself," he smiled wryly.

"Hardly surprising from someone that compared trying to shoot the exhaust port on the Death Star to tagging womp-rats in a T-16," Wedge ribbed good naturedly.

Irys looked at Luke in surprisingly open disbelief, her facial fur rippling, "With that attitude I'm amazed you survived the battle, much less blew up the space station."

Luke chuckled, "I might've been a little off on the difficulty of that."

"Yeah, just a little," Wedge grinned as Irys shook her head.

Luke returned the grin and continued, "The race route itself might not have been so bad if I wasn't constantly having to dodge attacks from the other racers. I mean, it was challenging, but nothing I hadn't ever had to do before. Those other racers though," he shook his head again, "They were vicious. Even when they weren't trying to kill me it was intense. I spent more time dodging than I did paying attention to the direction I was flying in, and toward the end of the race I know I narrowly avoided dying more times than I care to think about. At one point, one of the racers fired on another one beside me, then tried to ram them into me. The damage was so bad they nearly exploded on impact with me. I only barely managed to get to the side a nanosecond before their 'hopper exploded." He rubbed his eyes again and yawned wearily, "The after-burn nearly blinded me and I could barely see what happened after that, but I still managed to keep going long enough to get my vision back and dodge a racer that looked like he was trying to commit suicide so long as it took me out. They missed and ended up charbroiled against a wall, and that one wasn't the only one to try it." His jaw tightened into a grim line, "When sentients stop paying attention to self preservation they're so much more dangerous. It's hard to really wrap my head around even now just how far gone they all were mentally."

Irys nodded, "When sentients get broken it's never pretty. A lot go insane."

Luke grimaced, "Yeah." For a moment he drifted off into thought and then shook himself slightly and focused back on the present tiredly, "Up until the end it was close. I was one of four surviving 'hoppers and all of them were focusing on stopping me or getting past me with no regard for the consequences to themselves. I managed to dodge two that were trying to ram me from both sides by rolling over the top of one - not something you normally want to do in a 'hopper I should add - and they both collided. After that I managed to disable one with my remaining pneumatic cannons, but the last one kept weaving back and forth to keep me from getting a lock on it. At that point it became more of a race and less of a death-match. I took some of those final curves on the inside going so fast I nearly blacked out several times." He huffed in now-jaded mirth, "It was exhilarating at the time, and I managed to cross the line half a 'hopper-length in front of the other racer. Thinking back on it though, it was way too close." He breathed in deeply and continued, "Then it got _really_ messy. I got out of the T-16 and Jabba was absolutely furious. Before I had even stepped away from the 'hopper he ordered the last racer killed, and if his reputation wasn't on the line I'm sure he would have accused me of cheating. The guards threw Uncle Owen into the crowd that was surging out of the stands and he nearly got trampled." Luke grit his teeth, "I couldn't do anything about it because I had guards coming to cuff me and I ended up on the ground unable to move. I have no idea how it happened, but I heard a bunch of arguing on the loudspeaker and then Aunt Beru's voice was suddenly echoing around us challenging the bet criteria." He found himself caught up in the memory as he continued to talk to the other two.

" _Gentle-beings I, Beru Lars, have important information in regards to the current bet parametres!" Her voice booms across the complex sounding slightly strained as if she is fighting for the microphone. There is a long rasping pause in which the microphone must have been released because her next words are calmer, "I am the wife of Owen Lars, and the safety of my family members has been confirmed by the outcome of this race. It is because of this that I would like to know why my nephew is being manhandled on the ground currently."_

_Suddenly there is hope._

"I can see where this is going, your Aunt was a smart woman," Irys smirked.

Luke nodded, "I had unintentionally made a loophole, but it wasn't over yet."

_What?! Jabba roars, his deep voice carrying through the sudden silence._

_A pause, "Almighty Jabba, it has been well-broadcasted what the parametres of this bet are, yet I see your guards holding my nephew against his will."_

_Nephew? the hutt's voice joins hers in a loud stadium-wide echo as the guards around Luke seem to pick up on what is occurring and begin helping him up._

" _Yes your greatness," Luke sees her curtsey in what he realizes is her best dress, "Luke Skywalker is the son of my husband's step-brother who died some years ago. We have raised him since he was a baby."_

_What proof of this do you have? the hutt rumbles dangerously._

_Luke sees her pull out a data-chip and hand it over for inspection to one of Jabba's group so that it could be verified. The being runs a scan on it with a datapad before nodding and showing the results to Jabba._

_Jabba roars and his underlings scatter. The data chip is given back to Aunt Beru._

_She continues looking unruffled from this distance, though Luke knows better, "I have one other who would speak in support of my claim to further verify it."_

_Another person steps forward to the microphone and Luke has to do a double take. It's Biggs, holding himself with the confidence and posture of someone who is high-born, and really on Tatooine Luke supposes he is, though he's never seen him like this before._

" _My name is Biggs Darklighter, first-born in the Darklighter household. Many of those here today make use of our family's business, and the Lars' are of no exception. In all of my memory Luke Skywalker has lived with his Aunt and Uncle. The first time I saw him he was only weeks old and I was five standard years old. He has been raised by them his entire life." He inclines his head stiffly, "It is this information that I would submit as secondary proof to back up Beru Lars' claim."_

_Luke looks over and flinches at the rage Jabba is almost bursting with; he had managed to trick the hutt two-fold, though only downplaying of Biggs' position in his household had been a deliberate decision on his part._

_SKYWALKER! the hutt booms, the magnified voice shaking the stadium seating._

_Luke winces as he is lead by the guards to stand in front of Jabba. Once the guards back off he straightens his clothes as best he can while doing his best to hold his calm before he bows slightly to assuage the gangster's anger, "Yes your greatness?"_

_You tricked me! the hutt shakes with rage, the rolls of fat wobbling sickeningly._

_Luke breathes in deeply through his nose and forces himself to appear nonchalant, "Mighty Jabba, whether you see this as a trick or not is a matter of opinion." Luke shrugs, "You took the bet knowing that there would be consequences. It is now up to you to hold up your end. I know that you are an honourable hutt, and I trust that you will go through with your promise."_

_The hutt seems to swell in anger before it closes its eyes and deflates back to its normal size, Know this Skywalker, if this were not a matter of honour you would find yourself dead, and your companions with you. Do not cross me again._

_Luke bows again slightly, "I am well aware, and I will endeavour to stay out of your way."_

_Jabba gurgles in disgust and gestures towards his guards, Escort them out and be sure they do not return._

"I never did get to race in an official competition again after that, and while I definitely knew why, it was still disappointing," Luke shook his head. He perked up slightly, "Of course, since I wasn't hiding what we had been doing from Aunt Beru and Uncle Lars anymore I was able to use some of our previous winnings to get my own T-16 and work on it."

"I'm surprised your Uncle didn't ground you into your next lifetime," Wedge snickered.

"Oh he wanted to, you can believe _that._ Thankfully Aunt Beru was just happy we were all safe. The two of them settled on keeping me around the homestead more, though I was still allowed to visit town occasionally with Biggs. Over the next couple of years we ended up making a few other friends that we raced from time to time in Beggar's Canyon, but beyond that my life was pretty dull. I had been planning on going to join the Imperial Flight Academy like Biggs did to get off that dust-ball," he added wryly. His expression slipped into a pained grimace, "Then everything happened and I ended up leaving the planet anyway."

Irys nodded, "I have obviously caused you to remember painful memories, and for that I appologize."

Luke shook his head tiredly and smiled, "No, it's alright. It was nice remembering them as they were for a little while, even though some of it wasn't the best of memories."

Irys nodded and unfolded herself from the base of his bed, "It is not often that people are able to outwit a hutt," she grinned tauntingly, "Especially not on accident."

Luke felt himself blush all the way down his neck and grumbled in embarrassment as Wedge laughed riotously.

Irys tried and failed to straighten her wrinkled clothes and checked her chrono, "As exciting as this has been we should at least _try_ to get some sleep so we can pretend to be functional sentients during the mission."

Luke laughed shortly, his face still slightly pink, "Yeah, that may be a good idea."

Irys headed toward the door then stopped in the doorway and turned back slightly with a smirk, "By the way if you are trying to learn to speak the dialect of binary that the R2 series favoured then you will need another holo-book. They have an _interesting_ accent, and while that book will teach you the basics of binary, it will only get you so far."

With that she pressed the button to open the door and stepped back out into the hallway as it hissed shut behind her.

Luke stared at her blankly as the draft of cold air drifted across the room from the hall before looking down at his holopad then turning to Wedge who was trying - and failing - to stop himself from laughing, "Well shavit all," he cursed and tossed the datapad to the bed's side-table before he cut off the overhead light, leaving Wedge to stumble towards his temporary cot in the dark.

* * *

"All personnel report to their designated locations. Reversion to realspace in five minutes," a droid's cool and detached voice stated blandly over the ship's intercom as Luke stood surrounded by the Rogue Squadron including their newest member - and Bothan Agent - Rogue Twelve. The group had welcomed her with unsurprisingly open arms after her dry humour had immediately endeared her to them, allowing her to fit right in with the mix of personalities.

"Alright everyone, remember, as soon as the _Corellia's Luck_ drops out of hyperspace the bridge is going to begin scanning for anything that's out of place. If they don't find something within one minute we've been cleared to exit the hangar and begin our mission. If you see anything that even resembles something suspicious or what we're looking for report it in immediately. There is a possibility that our people are out there and need our help, so let's get to it as quickly and cleanly as possible. Lives may be at stake, so try not to mess around too much," he looked pointedly at several members of the squadron and there was muted laughter. "Everyone suit up and get ready to show them why we're the best," he grinned and some of the others whooped as they raced off to their X-wings.

Irys chuckled, "Not bad for a farm-boy."

Luke turned toward where Wedge and Irys were standing side-by-side, " _Very_ funny." He rolled his eyes, "You two ready to go?"

Wedge zipped up his flight-suit, "Always."

Irys pulled her helmet on and gave him a thumbs up before lithely climbing the ladder into her X-wing.

"Show off!" Wedge called after her before clambering into his own ship.

Luke smiled at their antics as he reached out gently for the Force. His smile grew wider as he realized the action was finally pain-free, and he allowed himself to follow the childish instinct to jump up to the edge of the cockpit of his own fighter, use his arms to snag the edge of it, and swing himself into the seat in one smooth movement. He waved at the other two smugly before pulling on his helmet as he saw Irys shake her head in amusement, and heard Wedge ranting about punching a hole in their egos when they got back on the ground.

Luke smiled in high spirits as he settled into his seat somewhat awkwardly with the winter gear he was wearing under his flight-suit. Now if he could just get rid of the proverbial bad feeling he kept getting whenever he thought about the rebels on Allyuen everything would be great. He shook his head and sighed. Hopefully they would succeed in rescuing the group, and the feeling would go away.

"Hyperspace reversion in T-minus ten, nine, eight-" the intercom echoed around the hangar and through the main channel of the com-units as Luke did a final check to make sure everything was in order, "three, two, one. Reversion."

Luke felt the slight rumble indicating that the ship had returned to realspace and shivered as the temperature suddenly dropped even further.

They had arrived.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:I would apologize for how long it took me to post this, but I think by this point it goes without saying.
> 
> This chapter fought me like a freaking mule, and did NOT want to be written. I'm honestly amazed it turned out as decently as it did. Present tense and 'story-telling' are probably my biggest weaknesses when it comes to writing (aside from commas), and this chapter contained quite a bit of both by necessity.
> 
> For those of you who have stuck with me, Thanks! For those of you who are just starting, hopefully it will be a shorter time between updates this time.
> 
> As always, I remain un-beta'd, so hopefully I didn't miss too many errors. More importantly, I hope this chapter makes sense, because seriously, it hated me.
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- A harch (the being crammed in beside Luke in the stands while he watched his first race) is a humanoid spider person, and honestly they're probably an arachnophobic person's worst nightmare
> 
> \- T-16s look nothing like you would think they would when hearing the term 'skyhopper' in conjunction with racing in canyons (or maybe it's just me that thought they would look different); they're actually surprisingly similar to a lambda shuttle as far as shape goes, only from what I can tell, the lower airfoils (wings) don't fold up when landing.
> 
> \- Yes, I broke the canon for Luke's childhood.
> 
> -No, I'm not sorry.


	9. Seek

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Seek

"Oh do wait up Chewbacca!" the prissy tones of the protocol droid were accompanied by frantic clattering as the golden droid chased awkwardly behind the long-legged wookie. Chewbacca heaved sigh through his nose and slowed down slightly, allowing the droid to catch up for the umpteenth time.

"Thank the maker! I thought that this time you would surely leave me behind in this terrible place!" The droid exclaimed as it waddled beside him. "I still don't understand why you insisted that we come to this unpleasant moon. It's infested with criminals!"

Chewbacca growled irritably under his breath, [I have told you numerous times Threepio, we're looking for a female human that Han was companions with in the past. This is the last place she was seen, and you are here to translate for me.]

"Well yes, I understand _that_ , I just don't understand why it had to be Nar Shaddaa of all places. This is a _smuggler's moon,_ " the droid emphasized.

Chewbacca turned his head and glared at the droid, [Yes. As _smugglers_ Han and I spent a _lot_  
of time here before we met the Alliance.]

"Ah, yes. My mistake," Threepio stammered.

As they continued walking forward, a junker skittered closer and chattered quickly at Chewbacca then gestured at the droid. Chewbacca had a good idea about what the little creature wanted, but he looked to the protocol droid anyway and rumbled at him questioningly.

"Oh dear. I do believe this creature is wishing to purchase me from you!" Threepio exclaimed, thoroughly distressed now.

Chewbacca chuckled, the sound a deep wuffling noise then picked up the half cybernetic being and held it up to his eye-level before growling menacingly causing the little thing to flail frantically in his grasp. With a huff he put it back down and watched in amusement as it quickly scampered away, running into several other sentients as it fled.

"My goodness, I just do _not_ understand these uncivilized planets. Mistress Leia would be scandalized!" the droid spoke, sounding highly affronted.

[Somehow I doubt that. When we first met she was convincing us to jump into a trash compactor,] Chewbacca commented.

"Well yes, but I'm sure that was out of necessity and nothing more. I _do_ wonder what a junker is doing so far away from Lotho Minor though," the golden droid added thoughtfully.

[They are common here,] Chewbacca shrugged his giant shoulders. [The scrap business is highly profitable for selling parts on the black market. Now come on, we need to keep moving, you are attracting attention.]

" _I'm_ attracting attention?! Chewbacca, you're 2.28 metres tall! If anyone is attracting attention it is _you!_ " C-3PO complained as he chased after Chewbacca.

Chewbacca growled irritably and sped up again. If he hadn't needed the chattery droid for translation he would have left it in the _Falcon_. Threepio stuck out like a sore thumb with his well polished metal plating and complaints about the moon's denizens and buildings, and he had been the reason they had been thrown out of several of the many cantinas they had visited since they arrived on the criminal's haven. It was grating on his already frayed nerves and making him irritable. [If you didn't complain so much you would be able to keep up,] he barked out over his shoulder as the droid teetered after him.

"How rude! I am not complaining you overgrown furball!" Threepio exclaimed as he continued to clatter along behind him to the next cantina.

As they turned a corner Chewbacca stopped in the walkway and eyed their newest destination thoughtfully causing the droid to ram into his back moments later. Chewbacca wuffed in amused annoyance as he dragged the sputtering Threepio off of the ground and set him back down on his feet. [This is the next place. Try to be a _little_ more subtle this time,] he emphasized before he turned and walked through the entrance.

"I assure you I have no idea what you mean Chewbacca. I am a protocol droid; we are made to interact with sentients in any situation," Threepio scoffed, sounding as offended the droid could.

Chewbacca shook his head and continued forward, the neon lights reflecting brightly off of the metal droid. The lighting combined with the spice-smoke lacing the air and the band on the stage made the cantina gave off the feel of a night-club. He ignored the numerous inebriated patrons and made his way over to the bar, the crowd parting easily in front of his naturally menacing frame.

When the bartender turned away from the back of the bar he jumped visibly, and huddled toward the shelving that carried various drinks, "Ah..." the being cleared his throat awkwardly, "Ah, how may I help you… sir?"

[I'm looking for a human female named Xaverri. She's a friend and I was told she was here on Nar Shaddaa,] he stated flatly, though his growling vocals cause the bartender to jump again. Chewbacca turned toward Threepio and stared at him for several long moments.

"OH! Yes, um. This gentle-being is looking for a human female he calls Xaverri-" Threepio started and the bartender shook his head and cut him off.

"I don't really know anything like that, I'm pretty new here. You'll want to check with the information broker over there," he gestured toward the corner toward a booth, "I don't know his name, but yeah, um. If anyone knows anything it'll be him."

Chewbacca snorted and shook his head as he headed over to the corner, 'new' was right, and if that was how the man was going to act around the more intimidating-looking customers then he probably wouldn't last long. He reached the booth and stood over it taking advantage of his height and appearance to deliberately intimidate what he quickly identified as a sullustan, [The bartender says you're the information broker.]

"Ah, my friend here was told you're a broker of information?" C-3PO asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, whatcha wanna know, huh?" the man replied, his voice scratchy and gruff, carrying the accent of someone who was more comfortable speaking Huttese than Basic.

Chewbacca chose not to repeat his earlier question and just stared intently at Threepio until he got the point, "Oh, we are looking for a human, her names is Xaverri."

"Xaverri, hmm. You mean that magician? She's not going by that name these days. Prefers her stage name," the sullustan commented and scratched at his stomach. "Yeah, I know where she is."

The wookie nodded; finally someone who actually knew something, [Ask him how much he wants.] The protocol droid translated dutifully as they began haggling.

The sullustan eyed them both shrewdly,"Two-hundred credits."

[Seventy-five,] Chewbacca stated flatly.

"He says he will pay seventy-five credits," Threepio parroted in basic.

"Ha," the sullustan crossed his arms, "You are funny, wookie. I like that, so for you I will offer a discount. One-hundred and seventy-five credits."

Chewbacca shook his head and bared his teeth, [I can find this information somewhere else for cheaper. One hundred.]

"Oh dear, he says he can find the information he needs elsewhere if he has to, and offers one hundred credits," Threepio translated, looking a tad antsy as he shifted his head back and forth between the two.

The sullustan grit his teeth sensing he was about to lose the deal, "Fine, one-hundred and fifty credits."

Chewbacca wuffed and cracked his knuckles threateningly, [One-twenty-five or no deal.]

"Ah, he appears to be angry now. He says one-hundred and twenty five credits or there will be no deal," Threepio explained. "I would take it if I were you, he has quite the temper."

The sullustan gulped visibly and cleared his throat, "Ah, did I say one-fifty? I meant one-twenty of course." He smiled showing his half rotten teeth and held out his hand to shake.

Chewbacca looked down at the being's dirty hand then looked back into his eyes, [Where is she? And what's her stage name?] Threepio repeated the question to the sullustan in Basic.

The sullustan drew back his hand and rubbed it on his equally dirty pants, "Alright, alright. Keep your fur on big guy." Chewbacca growled low in the back of his throat and the sullustan seemed to pick up the hint and continued, "She's over at The Cryptic Togruta in the Red Light Sector; goes by The Mystic. If you get there soon she'll be finishing up her shows for the night."

Chewbacca reached into his pouch and counted out the credits before dropping them on the table, [Nice doing business with you.] He turned and walked away before Threepio had even finished translating, leaving the droid to catch up. They had to hurry if they wanted to get there before she left for the night.

"Oh do wait up Chewbacca!" the droid wailed yet again as he clattered behind the wookie towards the nearest speeder rental.

* * *

Luke shivered again and shifted in his seat as the final few seconds passed before they were cleared to leave the hangar, "Alright everyone, once the blast-doors are open, wait for my mark." With a loud groan the massive doors slid to the sides and crashed as they settled into place leaving the hangar open to space with a force-field keeping the atmosphere in. "Three, two, one. Mark," Luke said steadily and the thirteen X-wings rose into the air at once, the astromechs timing the take-off with his order. Luke pushed forward on the throttle and exited the hangar with the others following close behind him. He breathed in deeply and smiled despite the chill. It had been too long since he had flown, and the bad feeling that had been hounding him for over a week had faded to a background prickle that he was able to ignore. On an impulse he banked to the right then turned the yoke and twisted through a series of loops and barrel rolls before he flipped upside-down relative to the others and flew back to join them, flipping right-side up back in his position in the lead.

"'Try not to mess around too much,' eh, Rogue Leader?" Luke heard Hobbie comment over the group channel.

"I see he has a do as I say not as I do policy," he heard Irys add wryly.

"Aw, give the guy a break, he's been stuck in his bed for ages," Wes said with a laugh.

"Thanks Rogue Three, you're a real pal," Luke responded, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, any time boss-man," Wes replied, his voice betraying his obvious smile.

Luke shook his head and smiled, "Well come on then, let's get this party started. Everyone break into your groups. Squad One with me." He banked off to the side with Wedge and Irys matching his movements, as the other four following behind closely.

"See you on the other side Rogue Leader," Wes said cheerfully as the other group split away from Luke's group,

"May the Force be with you," Luke said reflexively, then refocused on his group and flipped over to the squad's channel. He keyed up, "Okay people, you know what we're looking for so let's head on in."

As they made their way into the planet's gravity well and continued on into the atmosphere, the change caused predictable turbulence as they went. Luke focused on Irys to distract himself from his ship's struggling heating system and was pleased that she took to the change with ease. He quickly realized she hadn't been joking about her abilities as she adjusted to, and rode with the air currents with a smoothness that not many were able to achieve. Most usually treated aircrafts in the same way they would a land-speeder and went in whatever direction they needed with less thought towards the air they were travelling through and more to their destination. It wasn't usually a problem in the vacuum of space, but atmosphere travel gave many pilots trouble because of it.

As they got closer to their assigned coordinates Luke focused on his radar, his breath feathering out visibly as he spoke, "Alright Artoo, let's see what we've got going on here." He pulled his scarf up over his nose and focused on the task at hand.

The droid trilled an affirmative and began scanning the area below. Luke looked out the window and was hit by a pang of nostalgia. Despite the sub-zero temperatures, the planet looked surprisingly similar to Tatooine. The area he was flying over was similar to the Jundland Wastes with its rocky dry earth and canyons in the near distance, and just like on his home planet, he could see large dunes of sand further away. The only real difference aside from the obvious contrast in temperature, was the much dimmer sunlight that came from the distant star which, when combined with the Ivax Nebula's varying colouration, cast strange hues over the land.

For the next couple of hours Luke lost himself in the slow repetitive sweeps over the land with occasional stops for deeper scans in some areas and com-checks with the other squad. Then he saw a blip on his radar and shot to attention. As he rotated his X-wing to the side with cold-stiffened fingers to get a visual on what the radar had detected. After a moment he smiled. If he wasn't imagining things (a common problem when traveling on desert worlds), then he was looking at a depression in the ground with a small building inside.

"Guys," he keyed up on the main channel of the comlink, "I think I've got something. I'm gonna take a closer look." He keyed his coordinates in and sent them to the others before he levelled out and glided closer, "You getting anything Artoo?"

The droid warbled an affirmative and the screen to Luke's right filled with Basic, "I'm detecting heat signatures, and a very short-ranged distress signal, which is what I picked up on in the first place."

Luke tried to not get his hopes up, but it was hard, "This might just be it bud. See if you can pick up on any underground structures." He circled closer allowing the droid to perform deeper scans and was pleased to find that the depression appeared to be sentient-made, similar to those on Tatooine. What he had thought to be a small building appeared to be made with weather worn industrial-made durasteel, with an equally aged door.

Artoo whirred and beeped, and more text filled the screen, "Preliminary scans indicate that this is  
likely a mining facility. It has a large underground complex as well as an extensive network of tunnels, both sentient-made and natural."

"Rogue Leader to Control, I think I've got something, sending information now," Luke said with a grin.

"Copy that Rogue Leader," Madine replied from the _Corellia's Luck._

Luke heard a whoop over the com-channel as Artoo relayed the information to the ' _Luck_  
as well as the other Rogues.

"Looks like you did it," he heard Wes comment with an audible whine in his voice.

"Hey, unlike you he didn't send us to check out a bunch of false-alarms. Or did you forget the rock you thought was a ship?" Hobbie ribbed, leaving Wes to mutter childishly.

"Rogue Squadron, you're cleared to investigate this location," Madine cut in over the com, "We will be sending dropships shortly, meet up with them and prepare for an incursion into the building. We don't know what you will be encountering, but we know _something_ is alive in there. Be on your guard."

"Copy that Control," Luke replied shook his head at the other's antics, "Come on people, let's bring it in. Head toward the coordinates and we'll wait for the drop-ships."

He received acknowledgements from the others and waited patiently for them to reach the designated coordinates as he circled the area in slightly wider sweeps to check for other entrances. "This place must be old," Luke commented as he returned to the meeting  
point, "Durasteel usually lasts a long time and this entrance is showing decay." He had known that the Alliance had repurposed an older factory, but if this was the place they were looking for (and something told him it _was_ ), then it truly was _old._

"I'd say pre-Republic at the least," Irys noted thoughtfully. "You didn't find a landing zone?"

Luke shook his head, "No. If there _is_ one it either got buried or it's attached to one of the tunnels under there."

"If that's the case it could be kilometres away. For all we know this is a back entrance," Dixie pointed out.

"True enough," Luke nodded, "This entrance is our best bet for now though; we'll just have to land around the entrance and put tarps over the ships. If this place is anything like my homeworld there will be sandstorms."

"Your homeworld sounds like it was a barrel of laughs Leader," Wes said with a laugh.

Luke snorted, "That's one way to put it. Hopefully you won't have to experience one."

They continued to circle around the entrance for several minutes until they heard the rumble of the drop-ships entering the atmosphere, "Alright everyone spread out and give them room," Luke directed and they widened the perimetre as the ships roared through the air to join them.

The pilot of the head drop-ship's voice crackled across the com-channel, "Terra One to Rogue Leader, how do you want to do this?"

"I was thinking something a little unorthodox. If you guys could land in a circle with your sides facing in, that would probably provide more cover against any sand-storms that may kick up out here. We'll just squeeze in the middle and start setting up tarps while you unload," Luke replied.

"Are you sure that's safe? Don't want you guys getting jumped from the building," the drop-ship's pilot responded.

"We've been here for a few minutes and nothing has happened, I'll keep my guns trained on the entrance, but I doubt we'll run into anything until we're inside," Luke shrugged.

"Copy that Rogue Leader, I'll relay it to the others, feel free to drop down when we're settled," the man responded and disappeared from their com-channel.

"Alright everyone, you know what to do, let's get down there and start getting everything set up," Luke told the others and as soon as the last drop-ship touched down he lead the squadron in to land. As the sand cloud created by all of the ships cleared he popped the canopy of his fighter and took his helmet off. He shivered even harder as the cold air rushed in to fill the small space he had been sitting in. "Stars it's cold," he muttered to himself as he pulled a pair of goggles on over his eyes before he drew his fur-lined hood up over his head and tightened his scarf further. He readied himself with a deep breath that burned its way into his lungs, then hauled himself out of the seat to make his way down the ladder with his cold-numbed extremities.

Once Luke's feet hit the ground he suppressed a violent shiver and fiddled awkwardly with the clasp on the cargo compartment under his fighter until it unlatched. With a heave he pulled his supply container out and wrestled a tightly folded tarp out of its bag along with a mallet. With more effort than he had expected he attached part of the tarp to the ground using spikes, before he grit his teeth and drew his arm back. With a grunt he tossed a rope with a weighted end over his fighter praying to the Force that he hadn't miscalculated. The last thing he needed was a cracked canopy on an icy desert planet. When it landed without a problem on the other side he let out a relieved breath that misted in front of him and walked over to where it had landed. He began pulling the tarp the rest of the way over it using the rope that was attached.

Once he had fully attached the rest of the tarp to the ground he looked around as best he could through the frost that had spiderwebbed across his goggles and walked over to help others finish covering their fighters. After they had finished he and the rest of the squadron fell in behind the ground-forces as they took point and forced their way in through the small entrance to the facility.

"What do ya think we'll find Luke?" Wes called over to him as they funnelled their way into what turned out to be a long hallway.

Luke shrugged as they crossed the threshold of the door and hugged his arms against himself, "Honestly I just hope wherever we end up it's warmer than this. I feel like I'm gonna freeze in place."

Wes laughed, "Oh come on Commander, it's not _that_ bad." He smiled teasingly, "'Course, not all of us come from a planet with two suns."

"I don't care who you are, this dustball is cold Wes. Stop being an idiot," Dixie retorted and sniffled loudly under his scarf. "I don't know who picks our base planets, but it would be nice to have a nice temperate one like Salvation more often."

They walked along quietly for the next several minutes, their feet rattling the durasteel grating on the ground as they went before they were all forced to a halt when the people in front of them stopped moving forward.

Luke heard an explosion and the clatter of metal hitting metal followed by a loud clang as a door was roughly swung open allowing the crowd to surge forward again.

"Alright guys, wait for them to clear the area before we go in. I don't know about you, but I'm not wearing protective gear under all of this," Luke directed. The others nodded and split off to stand against the sides of the hallway.

They waited tensely for several minutes before their coms crackled to life breaking the com-silence, "Green Leader to Rogue Squadron, you're clear to enter. Scans show that the temperature should be relatively consistent ahead if you want to leave some of your outer-wear in here. Just make it quick."

Luke nodded, "Clear, we're headed your way."

They continued forward and crossed into a well lit and significantly warmer room causing the group to sigh in relief. "Thank the stars, I thought I'd never be warm again," Hobbie said with a relieved sigh.

Luke had to agree with the sentiment as pulled his goggles down around his neck so that he could see the space better. It was what he had expected from an older mining facility's bunking facility: old synth-foam mattresses on free-standing bunks, and completely coated in dust. Clearly if the alliance was there, they hadn't been using this section of the building for living purposes, but there were old trunks strewn around, and the halls were plastered with old flimsi-posters and pages from flimsi-serials. He looked around at the remaining signs of life as he removed a couple of his more bulky layers, wondering idly what had caused the facility to be abandoned.

Wes elbowed him and pointed at the wall with a grin. After a closer look Luke had to roll his eyes at how typical the wall was. Interspersed among faded Clone Wars propaganda flimsi-posters were various scantily clad models.

"Some things never change, do they?" Luke shook his head in amusement.

"I certainly hope not," Wes winked and snickered.

"The level of maturity this group displays is truly astounding," Irys commented wryly.

"Oh you have no idea," Wedge shook his head in frustrated amusement.

"Look alive back there, we're heading further in," the same voice from before crackled over their com-links and everyone immediately turned serious.

"We're clear," Luke responded and gestured for his squadron to move forward. They continued on quietly following the ground troops room to room until the Lieutenant leading the group gestured for everyone to halt at the end the hallway they had been walking down. After a few more gestures a much larger cluster of the troops quickly moved forward and broke off to begin searching what Luke realized must be a much larger room. They waited patiently until a quiet voice spoke over the com-link, "No contact, but there is a light down a hallway on the far side of the room. We're about to head down there, be prepared to back us up."

"Understood," the Lieutenant that had remained with them responded. A few more moments of silence passed as everyone seemed to hold their breath, then the room ahead echoed with yelling and laser-fire.

For a split second they all stood, taking in the noise, then the Lieutenant bellowed, "MOVE!" and they rushed forward.

The darkness of the large room put the group at a disadvantage, as a few of them tripped over old machines on their way to the source of the noise and light. A vehicle garage, Luke realized as he smoothly leapt over a rusting mining machine of some sort. He firmed his jaw and drew the Force further around himself with a determined calm before he spread his senses out from himself, taking in the situation. Ahead of him was a chaotic cluster of Force presences radiating a plethora of emotions, and behind him were even more, but he focused on those in front of him trying to gauge what was going on before he got there.

_Hostility. Surprise, stamped down in favour of survival. Anger. Determination. Searing hatred. Desperation. HATE._

Luke shuddered as the hatred almost seemed to crawl over his skin unpleasantly. Then, without any warning, the Force _screamed_ from metres away, and Luke felt one of the presences flicker and disappear. Waves rippled through the Force, and Luke stumbled mid-step at the obvious loss of a life. A pained gasp escaped him, and his eyes burned with unshed tears. So _this_ was what death truly felt like in close proximity.

_How had he not felt something, ANYTHING, when the Death Star had exploded? How had it not been crippling?_

_How could his father_ stand _this?_

Without realizing it, his feet (or the Force), had continued to carry him toward the blaster-fight. With a pained moan he released as much of the anguish he felt as he could into the Force, and shoved the rest of it aside. He couldn't help his people if he was out of commission (?), and so he drew his blaster with his left hand as he burst into the hallway. Allowing the Force to flow through him, he opened fire.

His aim was _horrifyingly_ precise, he realized as he hit the opponents, again and again in lethal spots; because there was no time to disable. No time for mercy.

There were _so many_ of them.

He became almost numb as the shock-waves of death from his side battered him, and _what he wouldn't have done for his light-sabre,_ he thought despairingly as bolt after laser-bolt shot past him. At some point he noticed Irys dart past him and into the fray, a deadly whirl of fur with violent intent and armed with nothing but two vibroblades.

Eventually he was forced to dive in after her in order to take out one of the enemies that had managed to surprise her, and from that point the fight turned into close quarters combat where his blaster was used as a bludgeon just as often as it was used to fire point-blank or ranged into the writhing mass of enemies.

_And didn't the close range battle feel so much more natural? Power sang through his veins, and under all of the horror he felt... he felt..._

_Another wave of death crashed over him, and tore through his train of thought as several of his people died to a grenade._

He forgot everything else; his mind blank from the trauma of feeling others die, but something, _something_ was wrong here, the Force whispered.

And then he was holding up the last of them, pinned against the wall with his crimson bathed robotic hand increments away from crushing the person's throat as his thoughts finally started to catch up with him. His first instinct was to be violently, _violently_ ill.

_The aftershocks of death surged around him, so continuous it barely felt like waves anymore._

_This. THIS must be how Force-users fought. By shutting it all out. Because how else was he supposed to deal with this?_

"Is it not odd that they all wore the armor of clone troopers?" a female voice filtered through his nausea, and finally he processed what exactly he was looking at. It _was_ strange, he realized as he loosened his grip slightly. He heard a gasp come from within the person's helmet as they gulped in much needed air.

He glanced around himself at the piles of bodies, and again came close to throwing up, but he had seen what he hadn't noticed in the disconnected madness of the earlier fight: each one wore complete suits of clone armor. Armor that hadn't been seen in the greater galaxy with this level of completeness since he was a young boy. Luke turned back to the person he was holding up and without much thought he yanked the helmet off of them with his left hand.

He heard several people gasp behind him, but he just stared blankly at the face that _should not have been there_. A face that he had only ever seen in edu-holos while in History classes.

"No freaking way," he heard someone exclaim in utter bewilderment.

 _This_ was the face of Jango Fett. The face of the clones that had been considered dead for a years now, due to how they had been produced.

_High-speed growth. Ancient at the age of twenty._

And the man was staring at Luke with so much loathing that Luke almost flinched away.

"This just got a lot more complicated," the same female voice from before commented. He turned and realized it was Irys as he watched the blood-stained bothan pull off the helmet of another one of the troopers to reveal _the exact same face._ "Much, _much_ more complicated," she added as she observed the dead man with expressionless analysis.

"No karking shit," someone else spoke up from the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: *shuffles awkwardly* Sooooooo, some of you may know that I accidentally got side-tracked with a Zootopia fanfic I started (and completed), and am in the process of editing and posting. On top of that my life has been hectic. I've finally learned my lesson, I'm never posting anything optimistic about speedy updates ever again.
> 
> That aside, I hope you're having a Happy Yuletide/Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus/etc., and that you didn't get a visit from Krampus!
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- Xaverri is a character from the Legends
> 
> \- C-3P0 annoys the snot out of me, but damn if he isn't fun to write
> 
> \- Lotho Minor is basically the galaxy's giant dump heap, and is, in fact, the same planet that a certain iconic horned Sith was found during The Clone Wars TV series.


	10. Headway

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Headway

All of them. _Every single last one of them_ was a clone, and the one Luke had captured wasn't talking. The man just glared at them all in silent hatred.

_And oh how Luke wished he couldn't feel the man's hatred, like dull fingernails clawing roughly at his skin._

"So what are we going to do with him?" Wes asked, drawing Luke out of his thoughts as the man settled down next to him at the edge of the dusty bunk room that they had all returned to in order to regroup.

From his slumped position Luke looked over at the serious face of the normally overly cheerful man; a state he realized he only ever seen him in after a battle. He sighed, "I suppose that'll be up to Madine." Luke shook his head, "To be honest, as weird as this all is, I'm more worried about what happened to our people that were based here. Artoo's sensors still show life-forms ahead of us, and I," he swallowed dryly, "I can sense them somewhere in here." He tried to focus on anything aside from how he had needed to stretch his senses out through the terrible disturbance in the Force caused by the echoes of death in order to confirm that. His eyes trailed across the room instead and rested on the small droid that had forced its way into the building at some point during the blaster-fight. R2D2 was currently projecting graphics into the air for several of the Green Squadron members as they appeared to debate over something.

Wes nodded, "That's good news at least. I'll admit, for a minute there I thought the only people in here were those..." He glanced warily at the single surviving clone, "those guys."

"Nope." Luke heaved in a breath and shook his head, "I just hope those guys didn't do anything to our people."

Wes' expression turned even more grim, "Let's hope not." He sighed darkly, then a thought appeared to strike him that brought a spark back into his eyes, "By the way, you were karking amazing in there. You _and_ Iris. I mean, I get it with Iris, she's a bothan, but man I've _never_ seen a human move like that." He whistled, then grinned slightly, though it was still only a ghost of his usual cheer, "You looked like a damn badass. I don't think you stopped moving a single time once you started."

Luke felt bile try to rise in his throat at the reminder, but he forced a smile that he hoped reached his eyes. "What can I say?" he joked emptily. "I'm just _that_ good."

_Each shot a death. The crunch of armor and bone under his new hand. Blood oozing out from a fist sized crater in flesh as he pulls his hand free, only to stab his straightened fingers into another vulnerable throat. Easy. Methodical. Not a movement wasted. More a dance, than a manslaughter._

_Picking bone fragments and brain matter off of himself in the aftermath._

Wes' chuckle mercifully drew Luke out of memory, and the other man responded, "I'll say. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Luke suppressed a flinch.

"I'd be more worried about getting on Talamiin's bad side if I were you Janson," Wedge drawled as he walked up. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear the blatant hero worship going on over here. Figured _someone_ had to intervene."

Luke sensed the older man's intention and looked at him gratefully, a real smile crossing his lips for a short moment. Somehow the man had known that the recent events were the last thing Luke wanted to talk about.

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean Wedge?" Wes complained, some of his normal energy returning as the conversation shifted.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean Janson. Hells, I'm pretty sure at _least_ the entire squadron knows, if not most of Haven Base," Wedge rolled his eyes.

Wes turned a telling shade of red and he began to splutter.

Wedge gave Wes a hearty slap on the back, "Good luck with that one. You'll need it."

Wes stared, his jaw working as if he wanted to talk, but couldn't find the words before he finally turned and stormed off in a huff.

Luke watched the man retreat and found himself smiling again despite everything that had happened, "Thanks Wedge."

The older man smiled back, but his tone was serious when he spoke, "No problem Luke. That... wasn't something he should have been talking about so soon. Especially not like that."

Luke shrugged with a nonchalance he didn't feel, "Honestly it's not that surprising. I'm sure everyone was thinking something along the same lines as him. I should probably just get used to it," he added bitterly. The short moment of amusement gone as quickly as it had come.

"Just look at it this way Luke. Without you it would've been a whole hell of a lot worse," Wedge's eyes trailed over to the line of their dead comrades lined up against the other wall.

"Yeah, I know. Extreme violence is okay, so long as the ends justify it. _Believe me_ I've been over this," Luke snapped, his bitterness multiplying substantially.

_Always that same reasoning. That same logic. That same twisted attempt at comfort._

Luke closed his eyes and breathed in deeply trying to release at least some of his tormented feelings into the Force.

"I'm sorry Luke," Wedge spoke, and Luke nearly lashed out at him.

 _He didn't need anyone's PITY_.

Luke breathed in sharply and refused to open his eyes.

_It was bad enough hearing the words. Feeling the emotions. He wouldn't be able to hold himself together if he saw it too._

"Luke, _look at me,_ " the man foolishly (oh so foolishly), demanded and Luke opened his eyes to see a glare that matched his own.

"What?" he sneered.

_And where was all of this animosity coming from? This was the man that had saved his life barely over a week ago. His friend._

_Force, he needed to meditate so badly._

"This is a _war_ Luke. This is _how war works,_ " Wedge snarled, then fell silent. The man closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before opened them again and continued, significantly calmer, "Luke, I get it, we're putting a _lot_ on your shoulders. More than anyone should have to deal with, but you can't just ignore your feelings and bottle them up. They're not just going to go away."

Luke froze at the words, an echo of his Aunt's own during his childhood.

"Look. I may not know anything about the Force Luke, but I would have to be dense to not realize that your state of mind is affecting your connection with it somehow. And I definitely don't know how to fix that, but _stars_ Luke, you've got to talk to somebody."

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but Wedge cut him off.

"I don't mean a therapist or anything, though Force knows it would probably help. I mean us. Your friends," he tapped himself on his chest.

Luke immediately clammed up, "You guys wouldn't understand."

Wedge scowled, "Try me."

Luke grit his teeth and looked away from Wedge. His eyes danced around the room, trying to focus on anything aside from the man that was demanding more than he could give. What was he supposed to say?

_That his father was their second greatest enemy?_

_That some part of him didn't care, because it was his FATHER?_

_That his moods felt like they were almost entirely out of his control?_

_That sometimes he worried about how far his temper would take him?_

_That sometimes he didn't even_ care _how far he might go (and wasn't that so much worse)?_

_(Power sang through his veins, and under all of the horror he felt... he felt...)_

_(Exhilarated.)_

_That some truly_ sick _, adrenaline-fuelled part of him that basked in power wanted to dance in carnage and never stop?_

He flinched harshly at the last thought that had slithered to the front of his mind without his permission. He started to tremble, and suddenly he was back in the hangar and he had just shocked Wedge, and why, _why_ , _WHY_ , couldn't he control himself?

"Luke?" Wedge's blessedly calm voice filtered through the chaos, and Luke slumped.

"I can't," he shook his head frantically.

"Yes you _can_ Luke. You _need_ to," Wedge stated firmly. "It doesn't even have to be everything, but you need to talk about something that's bothering you."

_And some part of him knew that Wedge was right._

Luke cringed slightly, searching for _any_ excuse, "We don't have time..."

"We'll have plenty of time," Wedge gestured around them and Luke realized that at some point most of the group had dispersed. "They're all still working on clean-up and tending to the wounded." He gave Luke a pointed look, and Luke sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he muttered, and cast his thoughts around in search of a safe topic until he hit on one. "Well to start, Jedi aren't supposed to feel emotions," he spat, and the amount of bitterness he felt at the statement almost floored him.

Wedge's expression was everything he could have hoped for at that moment. "WHAT?!" the man yelped as disbelief painted his features. "How is that even supposed to... What sort of banthashit... How in the _hells_ is _THAT_ supposed to work?"

Luke smiled harshly, "Meditation and releasing the emotions into the Force. It works too... sometimes." Luke shook his head, "It's really hard to do when you're emotional though. Ironic really." He looked around the room scattered with people, and emotions, and the clone's hate, _hate, HATE,_ "It's also really hard to do because of everyone has their own signature; their own emotions that I can feel." He rubbed his face and huffed out a broken laugh, "They're all so _loud_."

_And there it was, that frustration with the others' mere presence._

_But no, wasn't it HIS_ _fault that they affected him? If he wasn't so weak..._

"Well shavvit, it's no wonder then," Wedge snatched Luke out of his deteriorating thoughts. "How are you supposed to live without emotions? And I bet you're just ignoring the ones you _can't_ get rid of too." He shook his head, "You can't just ignore things like that Luke, you have to deal with them."

"But I _need_ to release them into the Force, if I don't..." Luke trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

"If you don't, _what_ Luke? What could possibly be so terrible about emotions?" Wedge asked in confused exasperation.

Luke shrank in on himself and bit his lip.

"Luke," Wedge coaxed with a mix of stern gentleness.

Luke exhaled sharply, then breathed in and nodded. The words seemed to spill from his lips now that he had made up his mind, and he explained what he knew of the Force, which when he came down to it really wasn't all that much.

 _The serenity of the Light. The seduction of the Dark. Emotional attachments leading to the Dark Side. Losing yourself and_ falling _to the Dark._

"I _have to_ get rid of my emotions Wedge. If I don't... if I can't control myself... I'll become a _monster,_ " Luke said desperately.

_Just like Ben and Yoda said his father did._

_(And even if Luke was wary of trusting what the two said about his father now that he knew they had lied so blatantly, Artoo also seemed to think that was what happened as well...)_

Wedge looked at him thoughtfully, but to Luke's relief he seemed mostly unfazed. After a few moments the dark haired man sighed and nodded, "Okay well that sounds pretty terrible." Luke exhaled sharply, but Wedge continued to speak, "What do I need to look out for to help you?"

Luke stared at Wedge in bemused amusement, "I basically just told you my emotions could turn me into something terrible, and you're just going to what? Roll with it?"

Wedge shrugged, "Well why not?"

Luke opened and shut his mouth, at a loss for words at the man's audacity, and completely torn between laughing and being furious at how lightly the older man was taking this. Finally he spoke, "Because I'm significantly more dangerous than your average sentient when I lose control!"

Wedge frowned slightly and flexed his hand, causing guilt to slam Luke. "I know," Wedge shrugged again, then grinned crookedly, "But you're my friend, and despite what you think Luke, I know you're not a monster. You're just a human." His grin widened, "A human with space wizard powers, but still a human."

Luke scoffed, locked somewhere between amusement and utter frustration, "What in the hells am I supposed to do with an idiot like you, that has _no_ sense of self-preservation, as a friend?"

"I'm a fighter pilot, what'd you expect?" Wedge chuckled.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Luke's thoughts drifted to the question Wedge had asked. He blanched, but he knew he would have to answer his wing-man. Luke looked up at the stone ceiling and heaved a long sigh, unable to look directly at Wedge during what felt like a confession. "I am... unstable, as you probably noticed," he gestured to Wedge's hand that he had shocked unintentionally. Wedge frowned and nodded, so Luke continued, "I was never this bipolar before I became aware of the Force. Now I feel like I'm constantly moving between highs and lows. I can release some emotions, and for a while it's peaceful, but the emotions I can't get rid of are usually negative, and they just... warp." He shook his head despairingly, "Everything seems to lead to anger, and the Dark Side is called to that."

Luke shifted uncomfortably and ran his fingers through his hair, "I don't think I've ever used the Dark Side, but... I've wanted to, I think. It's been close." Luke looked at Wedge, feeling lost, "It sings, and it's so hard to say no in the moment. It makes me... violent." His voice faded and he whispered, "Bloodthirsty."

Wedge met Luke's eyes, his dark eyes serious, "Okay then. I want you to try something for me, and it may turn out to be a bad idea, but from what you've told me it seems like trying it would be better than nothing."

"Okay?" Luke answered uncertainly.

"Obviously ignoring your emotions isn't helping you at all, so I'm thinking that unless it's absolutely necessary, you should avoid doing that," Wedge started thoughtfully. "I don't really understand how you 'release' your emotions into the Force, but what you don't release is obviously still there. In fact, until you can do whatever it is you're trying to do reliably, I would say you might want to leave most of your emotions be. To me it sounds like you're forcing yourself into an imbalance of peace and the emotions you have a hard time releasing. You've got no middle ground that way."

Luke grimaced, "When you put it like that it makes sense, but it seems dangerous..."

Wedge shook his head sharply, "What you're doing _now_ is dangerous Luke, or did you forget the days you were stuck on bed-rest?"

Luke cringed, more worried about what he had done to Wedge inadvertently, than what had happened to him, though he didn't say as much. He sighed, "Fine, but what will we do if I end up having... issues again?"

"Do what we'd do if it happened now... try to snap you out of it, or wait it out," Wedge shrugged helplessly. "I never said it was a solution. It's an alternative, because what you're doing right now isn't working. And again, you _really_ need to talk things out with someone. You're not alone, and you need to remember that. Just because the rest of us don't have your abilities, doesn't mean we can't be here for you."

The older man was projecting an aura of protective stubbornness so strong that it was impossible to doubt him, and the sense of relief that washed through Luke was so welcome it made his eyes sting with a rush of emotion. "Thanks Wedge," he said hoarsely.

The man shrugged casually, "You're my favourite wing-man. I gotta take care of you _sometimes_ , since you save my ass _all_ the time."

Luke cracked a smile and stood up with his usual unnatural grace, "I suppose we should go see if there's anything we can do to help until we're ready to head back out." He held out his left hand to haul Wedge off of the floor.

* * *

Leia sipped half-heartedly at her latest cup of caf and sighed in frustration as she closed yet another file from the fruitless search for Vader's current location. She put her datapad down on her makeshift desk and leaned back in her chair. With a tired moan she stretched her arms high over her head in a very undignified fashion, causing her back to pop in a satisfactorily loud manner. As she settled back in her seat there was a knock at her door. She groused inwardly, and hoped fervently that it wasn't something that would prevent her from taking the nap she had promised herself the night before when she had been forced to wake up after only four hours of sleep. She looked at the chrono and winced. It was only 16:04 hours, but she was exhausted.

"Come in," she called out in a well-practiced polite tone that betrayed none of her tiredness.

The door to her current office slid open revealing a slightly greying woman with brown hair that she had seen in the intelligence department. After a moment, the woman's first name came to her. Not exactly protocol, but it would have to do.

"Ah, Ms. Carrie. How can I help you?" Leia asked with a smile.

"For once we've got something for you that isn't useless," the older woman said with a wry smile, her dark eyes sparkling with humour.

"Oh, well that _is_ good news," Leia said in relief.

"You'd think it would be easier to find Vader. The man's a two-metre-tall walking black monstrosity. Hard to miss if you ask me," the older woman said, her tone commiserating, which elicited a laugh from Leia. "Anyway this isn't about that. We received a holo from your guy on Tattooine." She held up a disc and passed it to Leia, "Apparently the place is a fortress, but I'm sure you'll figure something out." She smiled, "From what I can tell, the Captain is still alive."

Leia brightened at the news of Han's survival, "Oh, that's wonderful! I'll watch this immediately."

The older woman smiled, "Hang in there kid. You're a bright girl, I'm sure you'll get him out of there."

Leia swallowed against a lump that had formed in her throat at the support, "Thank you ma'am, I certainly hope so."

The woman chuckled as the door slid back open, and she stepped to the hallway, "Well?" She gestured at the disc, "Get on with it." She winked, and the door closed, leaving Leia alone with the indicated item.

With a deep breath Leia inserted the disc into the console that sat on the side of her desk, before she pressed the button to start the holo, her hands shaking slightly. This was the first information Lando had been able to get to them, and she felt a mixture of nerves, excitement, and worry simultaneously at the thought of what it might contain.

She would have to find a way to forward the message to Luke and Chewbacca, she mused as the holo flickered to life to show a bedraggled looking Calrissian wearing clothes so far below his usual standard, that she had to smile despite the seriousness of the message. She bit the inside of her lip as the holo finished running its course and frowned to herself. The man looked like he had been through quite a bit, and the entire situation seemed grim, but at least she could take comfort in the fact that Han was alive. Instead, he was being kept in the hutt's inner sanctum. Apparently the hutt gangster had decided that using him as a decoration was more amusing than having him killed or sold. Leia breathed in deeply and extracted the disc from the console before storing it for safekeeping. That didn't make the situation impossible, just difficult. Not that she had expected anything less.

Leia exhaled wearily and slumped back in her chair, before yawning and stretching again. She would have to wait to send the message to the other two, and she didn't have another meeting for almost two hours.

It looked like she could finally afford to rest.

* * *

Chewbacca had reached the point that he was wishing he could simply lug the painfully slow gold-plated droid on his back like he had on Cloud City. _Sure_ it would have the drawback of having the thing chattering incessantly in his ears, but by this point he couldn't force himself to give a damn. If he had been alone he would have been at the cantina twenty minutes prior, but instead they were still slowly making their way through a sea of sentients. If it had been up to him he would have sent the slow bucket of metal back to the ship, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the droid would have gotten lost, and he _did_ fancy keeping his pelt off of their dear princess' wall.

With a frustrated growl that caused several of the sentients to scatter from his path, he finally turned down the street that the Cryptic Togruta was located on. They were cutting it close, but if he was lucky he would still arrive with a couple minutes to spare.

When they _finally_ reached their destination, Chewbacca walked around the side of the building, ignoring the front entrance entirely, in favour for the back entrance that he figured must be located nearby. After a minute or so of walking along the side of the rather large building, he turned the corner and saw a small cluster of gamorreans guarding an entrance. Without a second thought he strode up to the group and picked one up threateningly. The pig-like humanoids didn't deal well with logic, so this would be the fastest way to get through to them.

[I'm here to see a friend,] he rumbled, causing the being to squeal in terror.

"Oh. Oh dear. Chewbacca you can't just do that!" C3PO wailed.

[Just translate,] Chewbacca bit out.

"He... he's here to see a friend," Threepio translated dutifully, as his hands flapped in the air in a useless display of frantic worry.

The pig-being in Chewbacca's arms squealed again, and the others appeared to speak, before they stepped out of the way.

With a disgusted huff, Chewbacca dropped the being and ducked down in order to enter through the door, only to be stopped by a familiar female voice that he hadn't heard in years.

"Well I _had_ been coming to see what the racket was all about, but would would've expected this?" the woman spoke in a warm alto.

[Hello, Xaverri,] he rumbled warmly, and the almond skinned woman smiled in response.

"Hello to you too, Chewbacca," she gestured for him to follow her. "I heard about Han. It would appear we have much to talk about."

Chewbacca nodded as he shuffled behind her, his back stooped as it often was in buildings with lower ceilings.

"Who's the droid?" the woman asked as Threepio clattered after them nervously.

[It's better if you ignore him,] he rumbled quietly.

"Ah, one of those," she said with a grin. "This should be fun then."

Chewbacca simply shook his head and wuffed in amusement.

* * *

Luke and his squad followed behind the ground troops, an unnerved quiet permeating the group as they walked through the section of the hallway that had so recently been a battleground. The clone bodies had been moved to the giant garage in order to leave room in the hall, and if it weren't for the remaining blood-stains and burn marks the hallway would have looked very unassuming. Luke focused forward and followed the group despite the remnants of death-echoes still swirling around him. If he hadn't had the sense of purpose that came with rescuing their fellow Alliance members, he wasn't sure he would have willingly been able to walk back through the space again. His skin crawled uncomfortably, and he felt nauseous, but he pressed on.

"You alright there Commander?" Irys asked from her position to his left-rear, and Luke had to shake off the oddity of her relaxed speech and effortless lack of her bothese accent yet again. It wasn't so strange hearing it over the com-channels, but in person it only reminded him of when her accent was heaviest. She truly was a chameleon.

Luke gave a relaxed shrug and tried to smooth his features into some semblance of normal as he borrowed one of her common techniques, "Well I've definitely been better."

Something flickered in her eyes, and Luke felt a ghost of amusement twirl away from her.

_Half-truths. Misleading without lying. In some ways it was easier._

She chuckled, "Understandable. You're just lookin' a bit green around the gills."

Luke grimaced, "Yeah, well the Force feels pretty terrible right here."

"Ah," she tilted her head thoughtfully. "That would make sense. I'm guessing it'll fade though."

Luke nodded, "It's already faded a bit since earlier."

The bothan faced forward and they continued forward in silence again, as the ground troops swept through the hallways and several rooms to clear them as safe.

Luke had long since assumed the conversation was over when Irys spoke again, "First time you've really killed anyone face to face isn't it?"

Luke tensed and nodded. "Y-yeah," he managed.

She reached up and patted him on the shoulder, "It gets easier."

Luke blanched, "It shouldn't."

She huffed out a short breath through her nose, slightly ruffling her facial fur as she looked up at him. When her bright green eyes met his, she spoke, "No. I suppose it shouldn't, but it does."

Wedge nudged Luke's back from the right where he had been listening quietly, and Luke looked over at him questioningly.

The man shrugged offhandedly, "You looked like you were about to get tangled up in your thoughts."

Luke huffed out a laugh, "You've been spending way too much time around me if you're getting that perceptive."

The man nodded as they turned yet another corner and were given the sign to halt, "Obviously."

Luke looked past the mass of people in front of them to see what was going on, "Looks like they're getting out the blast charges. Must be a sealed door around that next corner."

"That could be a good sign," Wedge opined.

Irys nodded in agreement. "That means that someone was able to secure the door with those troops outside of it," she pointed out thoughtfully. "Though it seems odd that the clone troops wouldn't have been able to blow the door just like we're about to do."

Luke's gut twisted slightly, and for a short moment an echo of his earlier Force-lead thought that _something was wrong here_ spiked through him. Then, just as quickly, it was gone as if it had been snatched away.

"Something's wrong," he muttered without thinking. He felt distinctly unsettled, though there was no outward stimulus to confirm anything, even as he spread out his senses.

"Fire in the hole!" a voice called from around the corner, abruptly cutting off all talking as everyone without ear-plugs covered their ears.

A painfully loud explosion echoed through the enclosed space, and the troops began pouring through the opening to secure the area.

Luke almost held his breath as they waited morbidly for more blaster-fire after what had happened earlier.

Several moments seemed to drag pass, then a male voice spoke over their coms, "We've got non-aggressive contact. I may be speaking too soon, but I think it's our people."

An unplanned and clearly relieved whoop rippled through the entire group, and Luke grinned.

"What sort of numbers are we looking at?" the Lieutenant demanded once the noise had settled.

"Upwards of thirty Sir," the male that Luke realized must be the Sergeant replied.

"What's their status?" the Lieutenant demanded.

"Alive, Sir, though it looks like they're been trapped in here for a while. Their rations are nearly gone," the man responded.

"Clear. Secure the area. I'll send some of our troops to move our supplies and alert the _'Luck_ that we've found our people," the Lieutenant decided. "We're probably going to be bunked down here for the night until we know it's safe to move them."

=-.-=

With that, a the group was separated and Luke found himself waiting with the rest of his squad until they were cleared to enter the room. He shivered slightly as he stepped through the blasted-in doorway, and thought wistfully of the outer layers he had shed earlier. They were in another housing area, he realized, though this one was clearly older than the one they had left their supplies in. The walls had been picked clean of whatever had been on them, and anything else that was combustible had obviously been used in a failed attempt to warm the large room, if the charred pile of various items was anything to go by.

"The heating units in here appear to be inoperable," Irys commented as she drew her own jacket more tightly around herself.

"I hope the portable ones we brought will be enough," Luke sighed, though it wasn't quite cold enough for his breath to fog.

"We can always hope," Wedge said wryly.

The three hovered at the entrance as more of the squad trailed into the room. The other two obviously sensed Luke's unwillingness to step away from the warmer hallway and further into the colder room. After several moments he finally heaved out another sigh, and walked over to where toward where the Lieutenant was speaking with one of the many people huddled together on the floor.

"What's the situation Lieutenant?" he asked. Now that the ground situation had mostly calmed, the other man deferred to Luke, who was technically higher in rank.

"They were ambushed, Sir. This is Killian Scott, he was in charge of this base," the man replied stiffly.

Luke nodded and turned toward the man on the floor, "What happened here Captain?"

"Bloody Clone Wars came back tah bite us in tha arse is what happened lad," the man said in a scratchy voice.

"We noticed," Luke smiled flatly at the non-answer. "However, if you could be a little more... descriptive please Captain Scott?"

"Well, we got here near abouts the time that Hoth got established fer a base. Everything was normal at first, and we got settled in. Couple o' weeks in we started havin' people go missin', but there was this real bad sand storm. Couldn't get a message out. Course, by the time tha storm cleared someone had messed wit our 'quipment." He shook his head, "Had tah've been tha damned clones."

"And you didn't think to use your backup communication in your ships?" Luke questioned.

"Ha," the man snorted. "Those damn things are a couple miles out o' our way from here. Moved 'em as soon as we found tha hangar, else they probably woulda been buried in sand by now."

Luke nodded in understanding, but the man's lack of a straight answer hadn't gone unnoticed, "And why didn't you try to send a message from your ships?"

"Tha place was crawlin' wit clones! Let's see yeh try an' get that far wit them buggers on yer tail," the man snorted.

Luke nodded as he looked around at the group and looked at the remainder of the supplies, "How long did you say you were stuck in here?"

The man hesitated, "Maybe a month I guess?"

"Mmm," Luke hummed thoughtfully. "Out of curiosity how _did_ you manage to send a distress signal then, if you didn't use your ships, and your main communications terminal was tampered with?"

"Sent a group out with a mechanic and a slicer. They never made it back. Figured they'd failed. Guess I was wrong," the man said gruffly.

"Let me see if I've got this straight," Luke started. "You've been trapped in here for approximately one month," Luke looked at the man for confirmation.

"There abouts, yeah," the man nodded.

"And you started losing people after a couple weeks?" Luke asked.

"Yeah. Started gettin' bad there b'fore tha end when the clones showed up," the man confirmed.

Luke tilted his head, "And you sent out a group that managed to get us a message a bit over a week ago?"

The Captain huffed in annoyance, "I said that, yeah. I don't see why it bears repeatin'." The man wrinkled his nose and glanced over at the Lieutenant of the ground troops, "Ain't he a bit young tah be questionin' our people like this?"

Luke's temper flared, and when the Lieutenant met his eyes as if asking what to do, Luke merely shook his head and straightened his stance. With a single step forward he loomed over the much older man, and crossed his hands behind his back despite the cold - an unintentional visual echo of his father.

With a slow breath he was able to release the more dangerous facets of his anger into the Force, but unsurprisingly some of it remained. Listening to Wedge's earlier advice reluctantly, he allowed the more tame anger to remain present, and he began to speak with a deliberately clipped preciseness. "I understand you must be a long-standing member of the Alliance given your attitude, and I am well aware that you have been living in isolation; however, this does not excuse you for disrespecting a superior officer."

The older man cringed, but surprisingly held his ground, "Look, we've been trapped in this hell-hole and we're all miserable. I ain't gonna just sit here an' repeat myself fer yer pleasure."

Luke grit his teeth and reined in his temper, allowing it to simmer below the surface, "Look, _Captain_ ," he bit out. "I'm asking you to verify all of this because _this doesn't add up._ "

"What tha' hells is that s'pposed tah mean?" the man snapped.

Luke's grip tightened on his right hand behind his back for a moment before he forced himself to relax it as well as his stance, "It would appear you are either lying to me, you are terrible at keeping track of time, or something else is happening here."

"Whaddaya mean lyin'?" the man asked, but Luke ignored him.

"If you all had to make a guess, how long have you been here?" he demanded loudly to the entire group of people.

The people muttered to themselves, and Luke picked up several similar responses. He nodded then turned to the Lieutenant, "Something is _wrong_ here Lieutenant."

The other man nodded in agreement, "I'll have to agree with you there."

"What tha' bloody hells is goin' on?!" the Captain demanded.

Luke glanced over at the man, then drew himself up ramrod straight, "You're all under quarantine. You are not allowed to leave this room without approval. We will be searching the rest of the base, and one of you will be required to show us where you have your ships stored, as well as the location of your communication terminal."

"You can't do this! I demand an explina-" the man started, only to freeze when the air seemed to become incredibly heavy around him.

Luke stood quietly, with his eyes now closed as he wrestled with his temper, despite a strong urge to unleash it, until he had it under some semblance of control. The air slowly returned to its normal state. After another beat he opened his now frigid eyes and smiled, "Do. _Not._ Presume to question me again _Captain._ " The man withered as Luke continued, "You have been in isolation. It would be... _smart_ for you to let those of us with more information _do our job_. Is that _understood,_ Captain?"

"Yessir," the man grit out, addressing him more formally for the first time since the encounter had begun.

"Good," Luke replied, and with that he turned abruptly and smoothly strode out of the room, with Wedge and Irys following him like shadows.

As soon as he turned the corner and was out of the line of sight of anyone else, he leaned against the wall and hugged himself as he slumped to the floor shivering uncontrollably. "Too close, too close, too close," he muttered, as his body caught up with all of the shivering he had been fighting off while in the much colder room.

Wedge dropped down beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder as Irys stood guard over the two, "I think you did pretty well if you ask me."

Luke dropped his head to his knees, and shook his head, "I almost did something I should have."

"You did not though," Irys spoke from above them. "You kept your head, and that is what counts in the end."

Luke chewed on his lip, but didn't comment.

"He should not have questioned you as he did," she continued. "While your rank was never explicitly stated, it was clear that you were considered to be the superior in the situation when the Lieutenant deferred to you."

Luke sighed and pulled his jacket more tightly around himself, "Yeah, I know-" he trailed off for a moment. "I still have a hard time believing they think they've only been here for a month and a half."

Irys nodded, "An entire month and a half unaccounted for."

Wedge leaned back and laid his head against the wall, "I gotta say... I have a bad feeling about this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Rest peacefully Carrie, you were our feisty role-model for not taking any shit (or giving a shit, for that matter). You will be missed. 3
> 
> The plot thickens…?(dun dun duuuuun)
> 
> Also, this chapter was a pain to edit. Hopefully it turned out okay.
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- Luke's understanding of the Force is still rudimentary at best. This includes what he understands to be the beliefs of the Jedi. Do not take his word for fact.
> 
> \- The scene with Leia went from the concept of a random IT member that had yet to be written, to a full on Carrie cameo of sorts almost the instant I heard of her passing. I doubt I did her justice, but I certainly tried.
> 
> \- Yes, I had to put that final line... it's practically a Star Wars tradition
> 
> \- I doodled a tribute of sorts with my average doodling skills if anyone wishes to see it: imgur dot com /gallery /yv84n62


	11. Trepidation

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

 

Trepidation

Chewbacca settled down on an old couch, that creaked in protest under his weight, as he looked around Xaverri's dressing-room, [Looks like you've got yourself a nice setup going on here.]

The woman nodded, her black curls bouncing, as she gracefully took a seat across from him, "Better than some places I've been, certainly."

[How have you been?] Chewbacca asked, pointedly ignoring the fussy droid that had taken it upon himself to clang around in the room's small kitchenette.

"Oh, can't complain too much. Mostly been doing a lot of travelling for my shows. Ran into a few Imperials here and there, but they weren't too much trouble," an almost feral smile twisted her attractive features at her last comment.

[Still taking on the Empire all on your own?] Chewbacca wuffed knowingly. Unlike Xaverri, he felt no need to censor his speech in the case of being overheard. Xaverri and Han may be exceptions, but very few bothered to learn Shyrriwook.

The woman scoffed, "As if I would get any help from the so-called 'Alliance.'" She scowled darkly, "They are much too soft."

Chewbacca frowned, [You will find that they have had to change quite a bit since Hoth's massacre.]

The woman chuckled, "If that's true, it took them long enough. They became far too cocky after one success."

Chewbacca thought back to the aftermath of Luke managing the shot that had blown up the Death Star, then nodded. [They trusted too much in their own luck without thinking of those that had to sacrifice themselves for the victory.]

Xaverri nodded, "It didn't help that the leaders are a bunch of stuffy diplomats." Her expression shifted toward disgust, "They were too afraid to do anything out-right, even if their inaction lead to more suffering."

Chewbacca huffed in agreement, [True enough, but like I said, they are changing. Even now, while they are not all warriors, many that they recruit are, or are learning to be.]

The woman smiled, and this time it reached her deep brown eyes and softened her hard expression, "Finally, they are learning." She shifted in her seat, as C3PO waddled out of the kitchen, and accepted a cup of caf, "Thank you."

"Oh, you a quite welcome, Miss Xaverri. If you need anything else, just let me know, and I'll get to it right away," the protocol droid nearly gushed.

"That's quite alright. Why don't you head back to the kitchenette?" Xaverri suggested, and Chewbacca stifled a guffaw.

"Oh! Yes, Miss. Right away," the droid exclaimed, and clattered away.

The woman shook her head, "He really is an odd one isn't he?"

Chewbacca shrugged his massive shoulders, [You get used to him.] He paused and tilted his head thoughtfully, [Actually, no. You really don't.]

The woman laughed warmly, "As always, your bluntness is refreshing." She sipped on her caf, "By the way, you've heard about me, but how have you been?"

[Well, the Alliance pays well enough when we do smuggling runs, so up until Bespin, there wasn't much to complain about,] he said with a shrug as their conversation circled to where it had always been heading.

She inclined her head, "Ah, yes. I hear that Jabba has picked up a new wall ornament."

Chewbacca scowled and nodded, [He was taken while we were visiting Cloud City.]

"Calrissian's place?" she asked thoughtfully. "I thought Han said they were 'buddies.'"

Chewbacca growled in reminiscent anger, [They were. Of course, we didn't consider the possibility that the city was going to be held hostage by _Vader_ , of all people, when we decided to stop there for repairs.]

The woman's almond eyes turned to slits at the mention of the Empire's second-in-command, "Well that would do it, wouldn't it? I always said Calrissian had no backbone."

[He must have found one somewhere, because he's on Tatooine working for Jabba as we speak, so we can get an idea of what's going on there,] Chewbacca said with grudging respect.

"Damn," she chuckled. "I guess he finally grew a pair." She tilted her head, "So you don't need me for information. If that's the case why did you come to me? You know I don't usually deal with this sort of thing."

Chewbacca scratched the back of his head, then huffed, [I know this isn't your usual Imperial shakedown scam, but I was hoping we could get your help on this. You've got connections, and you've got skills. We could really use your help.]

Xaverri set her cup of caf down on the table in front of her and drummed her dark red fingernails on her knee, "Any chance we'd run into any Imps?"

[On a hutt-run planet? It's unlikely, though Boba Fett is apparently hanging around, and you know how he is about picking up bounties from Vader.] Chewbacca growled as he spoke about the man that had kidnapped Han, [He may not really be Imperial, but he definitely hasn't done us any favours either.]

The woman nodded thoughtfully, and Chewbacca knew the intelligent woman was turning the situation around in her mind, looking for advantages. He knew better than to bring up the romantic past she had with Han and try and use it as leverage. If anything, it would be the quickest way to get her to refuse. While the two had parted on good terms, she had claimed that the man made her too soft, and if _that_ was brought into her considerations, then Chewbacca might as well leave. Warm and caring, she might well be on the inside, but it was a part of her that she had long ago decided to consciously reject in favour of revenge against the Empire for the death of her family. Any time she felt that her softer emotions were playing too strong of a role in her decision making, she withdrew into herself and rejected everything.

Instead, Chewbacca appealed to her vengeful personality, [If we do this right, we can put the Hutt Clans at odds with the Empire. Everyone knows that the Hutts rule the Outer Rim, no matter what the Empire says. The truce between the two is already precarious.]

Her dark eyes gleamed at the thought, "Now there's an idea." Chewbacca could almost see the cogs turning in her head. She stood and pulled her long hair into a loose bun on top of her head, "I'll need to pack. Why don't you tell me everything you know about the situation and the people involved?"

Chewbacca almost sighed in relief, then nodded, and began to explain what he had learned.

* * *

Luke lay huddled in a ball on one of the bunks. He was wrapped in a blanket and wearing all of his winter clothing again, yet he was _still_ too cold to comfortably fall asleep. With a tired sigh he rolled to his other side in an effort to pull the blanket more tightly around himself, only to cringe when his movement made something hard dig into his side. He shifted around in irritation and dug into his jackets searchingly until he felt a metal disk. He pulled it free and squinted in the low-lit room, then cursed quietly. Leia's holo of her mother. He had meant to give it to her before he left the base, but he had forgotten. Luke sighed and shifted the small device between his fingers, tempted to turn it on. He shook his head and slide the device back into his pocket. He would have to remember to give it back to her before he ended up losing it.

Luke pulled the blankets back around himself more tightly and glanced around at the still forms around him wistfully. The day had been a long one, and after taking the first rotation of guard duty, he had really been hoping to get some sleep.

His gaze landed on the current group of guards that stood over their quarantined comrades in the light of a portable lantern, and from there drifted down to the huddled group. He narrowed his eyes and spread out his senses yet again, but just like his previous attempts, nothing felt amiss.

With a huff of frustration, he turned his mind away from the puzzling situation. Worrying about it wouldn't do anything but make it harder to sleep, and he needed to be fully cognizant if he was going to do anything useful once it was time to move again.

With a shake of his head, he forced himself to relax slightly from his tense position, and evened out his breathing. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least try meditating; after all, the others' emotions were dampened while they were asleep.

If nothing else, maybe the attempt would put him to sleep.

=-.-=

The air seemed to compress sharply around Luke as foreign hatred pressed into him mentally. The suddenness of the strong emotion dragged him from his exhausted sleep, before it suddenly disappeared completely. Within milliseconds a sense of death flooded the area, and Luke sat up abruptly in the bunk. He scrambled to get free of his blanket as he breathed harshly, and his heart beat rapidly behind his ribcage. His eyes darted around the room frantically, while he fought off waves of nausea that pulsed to the beat of the dead.

"Mmm, wha'ssa matter Luke?" Wedge croaked out sleepily from the neighbouring bunk.

"I... I don't..." Luke tried to pull his hazy thoughts together. "Something's wrong. I felt..." Realization struck, "The clone. I've been able to sense his hatred all day... it had calmed down when he was asleep but..." He stood up so quickly that it startled Wedge, "Shavvit. Get up." He gestured sharply at the other man, then started walking briskly over to where the clone had been under watch, not waiting for his wing-man.

Before he had even reached the space he saw the two guards that had been stationed to watch the clone slumped on the floor. "Check them," he snapped to Wedge before he turned abruptly to check the other guards. When he saw that they were in much the same state he cursed loudly, then drew in a calming breath. After a beat he raised his voice, unconsciously using the Force to project himself so that everyone could hear, "EVERYBODY GET UP AND BE QUIET!"

For a moment nothing happened, as everyone's minds tried to catch up with what he had said, then the room became a hive of movement.

"Lieutenant, Sergeant, we've got guards down, and at least one escapee. Pick out some people to watch the quarantined ones, and get our medics on the downed ones," he commanded as soon as he saw the two coming toward him.

They both nodded and headed off. Luke was about to turn to look for Wedge, when he saw the base's Captain moving toward him. Luke scowled as the man approached, "What are you doing out of quarantine Captain?"

"Ye looked like ye might need help, lad," the man shrugged.

Luke's scowl deepened, "Does the word quarantine mean nothing to you, Captain?"

A mulish look flickered across the Captain's face, "Ye sure are a bossy one ain't ye?"

A build-up of tiredness, stress, and the Captain's attitude made Luke's temper start to splinter. He barely refrained from knocking the man down with the Force, instead moving forward abruptly and grabbing the man's collar with his right hand, barely stopping short of his neck. Subconsciously strengthening himself with the Force, he raised his arm, not quite lifting the Captain bodily off of the ground, but lifting him enough for him to need to roll forward on the balls of his feet.

Luke grit his teeth as he made an effort to release some of his wild emotions into the Force, "No, Captain. What you are doing is both insubordination, and dangerous to the rest of your comrades. You'll be lucky not to be court martialed for your actions here."

The man chuckled wildly, "Oi, tha's funny. I like ye, lad, really I do. Ye've got a nice temper on ye."

Luke's face drew up into a snarl before he forced himself to release the man in disgust and shoved him backward. "Guard him," he bit out to several of the troops. "Since he can't seem to follow directives, he will have to be treated as a prisoner."

He waited long enough to receive several "Yes sirs," then stalked off to find Wedge. Luke was certain that if he stayed in the Captain's presence for too long, he would do something he would regret. He shook his head and focused his attention forward. He had bigger problems to deal with.

"What do we have Wedge?" Luke asked as soon as he strode up to where he had left his wing-man.

"They're dead, sir," the older man replied crisply. His calmly professional demeanour did wonders for Luke's lingering aggravation, despite the graveness of the situation. "Neither of the guards appear to be injured, and there's no evidence of a struggle."

"What the hells," Luke breathed as he met Wedge's concerned eyes. "And the prisoner?" he pressed on.

"If I hadn't known he was there, I never would have guessed it. All of the items we confiscated from him are gone," Wedge stated with a frown.

Luke grimaced, "Right." He turned then gestured for the man to follow him, noticing absently that Irys had joined them. Luke walked briskly to where their quarantined members had been placed, his path clearing of people smoothly, until he reached the Lieutenant and the Sergeant.

"Report," he demanded.

"Our guards are dead, sir," Lieutenant bit out, a protective anger simmering in his eyes. "Twelve of the quarantined individuals are gone, and there is no evidence of a struggle."

Luke nodded curtly, then voiced a suspicion, "And their belongings?"

"Gone, sir," the Sergeant chimed in.

Luke breathed in deeply and pinched the bridge of nose as his mind raced, "So the clone, and twelve of our quarantined people appear to have disappeared in the exact same way. No one heard or saw it happen, and I sensed an intense amount of foreign anger briefly before I felt..." he paused and drew in a deep breath in order to ground himself. "I felt all of these people die."

"It seems likely that the people from the base are compromised in some way," Irys postulated.

Luke nodded unwillingly, "It's possible." He turned the situation around in his head, "We need to contact the _'Luck_ and see what Commander Madine advises. I would prefer to pull out immediately before we lose anyone else, but the choice will be up to him, since we are dealing with an unknown threat."

The Lieutenant nodded grimly, "I'll send some of my people out to the drop-ships, since the base's long-ranged communicator might be compromised."

Luke nodded in return, "In the meantime we'll have to stay on our guard. I know we're all tired, but can't be caught unaware like that again." He shook his head wearily, "No one sleeps."

"Yessir," the Lieutenant nodded, and he and the Sergeant stepped away to follow Luke's instructions.

"You're doing well," Wedge comment quietly. "Especially given the circumstances."

Luke frowned, as the memory of their people's loss pulsed around him, "I'm just trying to do damage control at this point."

"And what is your plan for when Madine ultimately denies us access to return to the ship?" Irys asked knowingly.

"Surely he wouldn't..." Wedge started.

Luke snorted and met Wedge's eyes, his expression dark, "Wouldn't he? We've lost seventeen people from our rescue group in a single mission to an unexplained threat, that we can't guarantee won't follow us back to the ship. He may decide it's safer to cut our losses." Wedge cursed colourfully, and Luke nodded. "Exactly." He looked over at Irys, "As to a plan, I'm working on it. For now, we just need to keep the peace. We may be worrying over nothing."

She nodded, "It is a nice hope."

Luke smiled bitterly, and they all went silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they waited for the verdict.

* * *

Lando wondered how his day had gone from relatively normal, to him dragging the remains of several particularly unpleasant sentients that had been attempting to negotiate with Jabba. From his still limited understanding of Huttese, he had figured out that one of the Hutt's employees that usually cleaned up these sorts of 'messes' had been killed a few days prior after angering the gangster, and Lando had been the one _lucky_ enough to be chosen to replace the being.

He grit his teeth and heaved the already pungent smelling corpse of a toydarian up into a hover-cart. If there was anything he knew, it was that his days of smelling at least _slightly_ decent were over for the foreseeable future.

Lando sighed, and turned to return to the Hutt's chamber, only to immediately look down to the floor submissively as he cursed in his head. It hadn't been an issue when he was a messenger, and rarely set foot near his current boss' main chambers, but now that he did he had already seen Boba Fett twice in the same day.

The intimidating man strode past him, and Lando breathed a sigh of relief when he appeared to go unrecognized yet again as the man turned a corner without breaking his stride.

For the second time that day he was actually grateful for his unshaven face, and lengthening hair. His ragged appearance and subservient stance were probably the only things that had saved him from being recognized by the hunter. He just hoped the man never felt a need to run a facial recognition scan on him.

With a now unsettled sigh, he continued forward again. He couldn't afford to do his job slowly if he planned on staying alive.

He decidedly avoided thinking too deeply about his current job, and instead tried to get lost in the repetition again. It was the only way he was able to continue.

Besides, at least he was a step closer to his destination. Really, the job change had been progress.

Lando's stomach twisted uncomfortably as he looked at his next, far more mutilated, transport.

Progress. Right.

Eyes on the prize.

He crouched down and got back to work.

* * *

A muffled curse crackled across in the background of the com-traffick, before a much closer female voice spoke into the communicator, "Commander, we've got a problem."

Luke looked up, almost startled after over twenty minutes of nothing but status checks bouncing back and forth between the Sergeant, and the group that had been sent to their ships, "What've you got?" he asked.

"Your droid is detecting a pretty big sandstorm about to hit outside," the woman explained.

Aloud Luke cursed, but inwardly he felt a sense of relief. This would buy them time to figure out what was going on. "How far out is it?"

"Only a few miles, and it's closing fast. Should we try it?" she questioned seriously.

Luke shook his head, "No. Head back to us, we'll regroup and figure something else out."

"Yes, sir," she replied shortly, then the com-channel went silent.

"So what now, Commander?" the Lieutenant asked as he walked up.

Luke appeared thoughtful for a moment, despite having already come up with something of a plan. After a moment he nodded and spoke, "Pick out two of the quarantined people that knows where to locate the base's communication terminal, and their ships. We'll send out a group to each one, and hopefully we'll be able to get a message out at one of the two." He pointed at the Lieutenant, "You're going to stay here with the main group to coordinate." The man nodded, and Luke continued, "Sergeant," he gestured at the other man, "Your group will be going for the communication's room. Pick out some people that are good with repairing electronics."

"Yes, sir," the man nodded.

"I'll be going with the group to look for the hangar." He gestured toward Irys, "The Agent, and I should be able to deal with any technical problems we encounter, and it's a longer trip. I want to make sure the group is well supported. Any questions?"

After the battle earlier, no one questioned the two's abilities, though Wedge did raise his hand.

Luke raised his eyebrows, sensing worry oozing from the man, "Yes?"

"Permission to come with you, sir?" he requested seriously.

Luke searched his expression thoughtfully, "I had planned on having you remain and take charge of the Rogue Squadron again while I was gone."

The man's expression tensed, and something flickered behind his eyes, but his presence in the Force felt resigned, "As you say."

Luke nodded, "Thank you." He turned back to the Lieutenant, "Let me know when you've decided on the groups. We'll set out after our people return from their current mission."

"Yes, sir," the man responded, and Luke watched as he and the Sergeant walked away again, to get things organized.

Now they just had to settle in and wait for the first group to return from the entrance.

_Hurry up and wait…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello again everyone! I just realized today that I have 111 kudos for this story (insert nervous excitement here). That means that I have to live up to a lot more expectations now, so I hope that I'm able to keep up with you guys!
> 
> Thank you all! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
> 
> Random Info:
> 
> \- Xaverri and Han were in a relationship in the past (Legends/EU). He worked as her show assistant and pilot, when the two weren't sabotaging or running scams against imperials.
> 
> \- Xaverri's ship is named the Phantasm.
> 
> \- Xaverri is known in the EU for having fooled an imperial fleet, that was tasked with razing the entirety of Nar Shaddaa, into believing that one of her illusions (made through judicious use of holoprojectors all over the moon) was an entire mercenary fleet for a few minutes during the Battle of Nar Shaddaa.
> 
> \- Yes, I made a slight nod to Rogue One.
> 
> \- Writing Lando stuck undercover on Tatooine is hilarious to me. He just seems like he REALLY cares about his appearance, and Tatooine gives zero shits about his opinion.
> 
> \- I don't remember if I've said this before, but writing military-esque interactions is obnoxious. Too much nodding and 'yes, sir/ma'am'-ing.


	12. Treachery

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Treachery

Leia looked at the familiar, if static-ridden, visage of Han's wookie co-pilot, and couldn't help but smile, "Hello there, Chewbacca."

He roared in response, and she read the translation off of the screen silently, "Hello Princess."

Her smile widened, "How have you been?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied.

"Wonderful," she nodded. "How was your trip?" she asked, avoiding direct mention of where he had been or what he had been doing. While the transmission was being bounced around enough that their locations were well obscured, in the event that it was intercepted and decrypted, she didn't want anything useful being gained. Live transmissions were notoriously easier to intercept than a recorded message after all, due to the continuous stream of data required for the connection.

"Good," he wuffed in answer. "I met an old friend. She's decided to join us for our next trip."

"That's even better news," she replied, relieved at the added assistance. "While I've got you here, I just wanted to let you know we've gotten news about the Captain."

"Took that vain bastard long enough to send us anything," Chewbacca said irritably.

"He's doing what he can Chewie," she chastised, though she agreed with the sentiment. The wookie whined in frustration, and Leia frowned, "I know, Chewbacca. It will work out somehow."

He huffed reluctantly in agreement, "I know."

"I will be sending you the message soon at the usual address in two days, if that works for you?" she questioned.

He nodded, "I should be there."

"Be safe Chewbacca," she said, worry seeping into her voice.

"As always. You be safe as well, Princess," he replied.

Leia smiled one last time as she reached forward to turn off the encrypted console, before she turned to Mon Mothma. "Thank you for allowing me to use the terminal, Ma'am."

"It's no trouble, dear. I can certainly understand the need," the middle-aged woman said warmly.

"It is hardly true Alliance business, though; you did not have to let me do this," she replied gratefully.

Mon sniffed lightly, "Don't worry about it. If we had more resources available, I would offer more help."

Some of the tension released from Leia's shoulders, "You are too kind. If there is anything I can do to repay you, let me know."

"Leia," the woman spoke sternly. "If I have to tell you not to worry about it one more time, I'll be forced to put you on bed-rest for an entire day." The woman looked her over, noting the somewhat heavier than normal makeup Leia was using to mask her exhaustion, "Stars know you need it. I may have to do it anyway."

Leia laughed lightly, giving the older woman a similar once over, "I could say the same for you, Ma'am."

The woman chuckled, "There's that fiery spirit." She gestured toward the door, "Shall we go?"

Leia nodded, and joined the woman as they headed in the direction of yet another meeting. Apparently their Supreme Commander had sent them an update on the mission Luke was on.

Leia felt a sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach. She had been distracted by being able to speak to Chewbacca, but now that she considered the situation, it was abnormal for the ex-imperial to send updates during a mission, because of the risk of compromising the situation.

He only sent updates when something unanticipated came up.

* * *

Luke walked beside their current guide, in the centre of a tactical formation, with his senses spread away from himself as he searched for anything that was out of place. So far he hadn't found anything, but he still felt antsy in a way he couldn't explain. "How much further?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled behind his scarf, as he glanced over at the soft-spoken female that had lead them safely thus far.

"A quarter mile, maybe a little less," she replied with a warm smile. She, like the rest of his group, was apparently better at dealing with the nearly frigid temperature than he was, as she appeared far more comfortable than he did. "There should be a stairwell coming up on the right in a couple minutes. From there we'll go down a level, and make a left down the hallway, which will take us straight to the hangar."

Luke nodded and refocused his attention away from the group, as well as his cold body, again. Now that he knew what he was looking for, Luke could vaguely sense the stairwell if he focused - sensing anything inorganic was more difficult than it was sensing anything alive - and further ahead he could feel the impression of a large open underground space.

He nodded, "Okay. That checks out."

She had ceased asking how he was verifying her information shortly after the group had started on their way, and now she simply nodded in response.

"We've been lucky so far, but stay on your guard everyone. We don't know what we're going into here," he reminded the group as they carefully made their way down the third staircase of the expedition.

The others nodded in response, and after they had cleared the stairs, they smoothly continued forward into the corridor with well-practiced motions. Luke stepped into the hall, and indicated to the blonde woman to follow as soon as the front group had cleared it.

She pointed to the left, and Luke nodded, gesturing for the group to continue.

They flowed forward as one without speaking, and Luke took a closer look at their new surroundings in the low beams of the group's various portable lights. The corridor they were using had clearly been well travelled at some point in the past; probably a vehicle path, he figured as they moved across thick rusted durasteel plates that had been evenly spread from wall to wall.. The walls themselves this far down in the massive complex were roughly hewn stone that echoed with each of their steps, causing them to make much more noise than they would have otherwise, but there was little that they could do about it.

"We should be coming up on it now," the pale woman spoke, interrupting his observations.

Luke nodded, having already sensed the large space directly ahead of them, "Everyone be ready."

They reached the massive entry-way, and Luke stood guard by their guide while the rest of the group spread out into the space, their lights' beams sweeping around the large space.

Moments passed in silence, then the overhead lights in the room burst to life, blinding the entire group thoroughly after their mostly dark trip. A stream of curses echoed around the room, and Luke blinked his now watering eyes, as he tried to see what was going on.

With no warning from the Force, a sun-deprived hand shot forward into the edge of his vision, and he was seeing stars as pain shot through his temple.

"Sorry kid," a female voice trickled through his dazed thoughts. As if from under-water, he felt himself shoved into the large room that was _empty_ except for his people, before he heard the familiar sound of blast-doors sliding shut behind him.

With a pained groan, he tried to force himself off of the ground, fighting through the haze, before the woman - the one that had lead them there, his sluggish mind processed slowly - knelt down beside him, and pushed him back down to the ground.

"Commander," she spoke as he continued to struggle, despite being disoriented. "You are strong," she smiled, and a distant part of Luke thought that it might have even been a kind expression. "Stronger than we realized," she gripped his shoulders tightly as he bucked again. "Focus child," she snapped, her expression sharply twisting in sudden anger that looked out of place on her features.

Luke bared his teeth at her, but she was stronger than she looked, and his body wasn't cooperating. He settled for glaring at her, and after a struggle to speak, he finally spat, "Traitor."

The woman laughed wildly at the label, and released one of his shoulders only to run a finger down his cheek, "I suppose I can give you that." She tilted her head as if listening to something, then returned her focus to him, her expression shifting unsettlingly until it settled on a serious look. She removed her wandering finger from his face, and flexed her hand, as if she had just realized what she had been doing, and her accent shifted drastically to something he didn't recognize, "I don't have much time. You must stay strong Commander." She laughed bitterly, "Try not to forget yourself." She looked at him pleadingly, and her pale grey eyes bore into him, "Also, I know it's a lot to ask, but please, _end_ this farce."

She tapped his forehead and stood, as he felt unconsciousness rising to swallow him. In his final moments of consciousness he thought he saw her form flicker.

Then she was gone, and he was lost to oblivion.

* * *

Crix had watched silent as a massive sand-storm swept over his people's landing-area more than an hour ago. Now he stood, waiting impatiently through the planet's night-cycle for a response to the message he had sent Haven Base. The process of sending a message securely was slow, and involved using several ships as improvised switch-boards along an ever-changing route, but he was feeling particularly impatient today.

Clones. He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept. It should have been impossible. The genetic information used in the creation of the clones from the war had long-since decayed beyond use. And yet...

He mentally shook himself. It wouldn't do to get worked up until he had more information, which meant waiting for his people on the ground, or Haven to contact him.

"Sir, we've got an incoming transmission coming in from Quarry Base," an officer advised him.

"Do they have the clearance codes?" he asked curtly.

"Yes, Sir. They appear to be having signal problems though," the officer explained.

Crix nodded, "Put them through, and see if you can stabilize the signal from our end."

The officer nodded, and turned to press several buttons until a crackling noise filled the room.

"Can you hear me?" Crix demanded.

"Y-, Sir," a garbled voice made its way across the channel.

"Good. What's going on down there?" Crix questioned impatiently.

"- base's off-planet com-tions have be- tamper- -. Probably - -lones," the male at the other end replied.

Crix held in the urge to curse, "Is there anything you can do?"

"- - -icers and mech- working - -. - wanted to gi- -atus update," crackled across the line.

"Go ahead," Crix directed, still able to pick up the general meaning easily enough, though the signal was steadily worsening.

"We haven't - - -ore clones. The one we capt- -, - -ome of the people from - base-" the channel broke up entirely for several moments, before it returned. "We have a - base - up. Lieut- -mander Skywal-" the man managed to say before the channel went completely to static again.

"Can we get them back?" Crix snapped crisply, forcing professionalism over his frustration.

"No, Sir," the officer spoke with a frown. "The signal is completely gone. Something must have happened to completely disrupt it."

Crix breathed in slowly, then nodded, "Alert me if the signal comes back."

"Yes, Sir," the officer replied, as he went back to monitoring his console.

Crix returned to his quiet waiting as he turned the situation around in his head. At least it appeared that their wayward comrades had been located, and they had set up a base once they had been found. He glanced at his chrono and suppressed a sigh. It looked like this would be yet another all-nighter out of many in his life, and his prospects for taking a nap later weren't looking very good either given the situation.

"Sir, Haven has sent us a holomessage," the officer spoke again, interrupting Crix's brooding.

"Play it," Crix said, and stepped closer to the console in anticipation.

The male started the message, and several small blue figures appeared in mid-air, apparently standing around a table.

"Supreme Commander," Admiral Ackbar spoke first, the Mon Calamari looking grave. "The information that you have given us is highly disturbing. You know as well as I do the amount of damage that clone troops are capable of causing. We have consulted with our intelligence contacts, and have discovered no feasible reason for there to be any living clones, aside from the bounty hunter Boba Fett. That they would be at Quarry Base is even less likely. We have unconfirmed information that a small group may have been stationed there during the war for a short period of time, but that was over two decades ago now. Even if they were, given the clones' rate of aging, they should not have survived this long. If the information our people on the ground have given you is indeed correct, then you have encountered some sort of unknown anomaly." The male stepped back, and Crix observed the group, as Mon Mothma stepped forward.

Each face was grim, meaning nothing good for the mission he had always disagreed with. His gaze came to a rest on Leia Organa, and he was unsurprised to see carefully contained distress behind her royal mask (he had been around too many people that were trained to hide their emotions, to not notice it).

Somehow, he mused thoughtfully, the young woman had become the spirit of the older, more idealistic Alliance. The Republic even – and the reason he had left the Empire had _not_ been because he disagreed with the _type_ of government in place; just how it was implemented). Suffice it to say, he wasn't a fan of the slow-moving indecisive government system that had been in place previously. Honestly, with the sheer amount of sentient-populated space, a condensed central form of power was necessary if you asked him. It was too bad that the current one had no interest in ruling fairly over its people, and killed them senselessly.

There was no way anyone could convince him that blowing up an entire planet was for the good of the people.

His opinion on political systems aside, Princess Leia Organa of the massacred planet of Alderaan had managed to cling to her overly optimistic ideals despite everything that had happened to her. Nothing made it more obvious than her statement to him on the day this mission was initially discussed.

" _We cannot just simply abandon them because it makes good tactical sense."_

It annoyed him no end. Resistance was never easy, and attaining freedom took sacrifice. As the recording of Mothma began to speak, he wondered if today would be the day the princess of a dead world would finally learn that.

"Given that you are dealing with a potentially volatile situation, we are putting a time limit on the mission, and are prohibiting any further excursions onto the planet," stated Mothma, her expression stony. "If the people that are already planetside can't deal with the situation within the next twenty-four hours, you have officially been cleared to bombard the surface. Take out any exits to the facility, and all of our crafts that are there. The same holds true if any enemies appear to be commandeering our crafts. This was clearly some sort of trap, and we _cannot_ have clones escaping that planet."

Crix frowned to himself as he listened. This meant there would be no way to gather information about the clones if his planetside people didn't escape within the time limit. He wasn't entirely sure he agreed with the course of action, but he could understand the reasoning behind the decision.

Having said everything she needed to, the woman stepped back, only to be replaced by the young Organa, who was radiating her particular brand of stubbornness. "If an opportunity to evacuate the group safely presents itself, then do it as quickly as possible. I won't see our people lost if it can be avoided." She paused, and after a moment she continued, with her words more carefully chosen, "You hold their lives in your hands. We trust you to understand the gravity of this."

Crix mentally rolled his eyes at her dramatics as the recording shut off. He was the Supreme Commander; he was well aware of the consequences of his actions. Crix turned away from the console and nodded to the officer, before he made his way back to the main view-port. The entire situation didn't sit well with him, but there was nothing he could do about it until the base's communications cleared, or the sandstorm dissipated so that his people could access their own communication in their ships.

He looked down over the ominously swirling sands far below them on the planet that were only barely visible in the nearby nebula's iridescent light.

All of this technology, and still nature trumped humanity. It truly was awe inspiring.

* * *

Lando wasn't sure his poor heart could handle this much stress in such a short period of time. Somehow while waiting in one of the many recesses hidden around Jabba's main room, as he had been told to do whenever there wasn't anything (or one) to clean up, he had found himself watching some idiot threaten the entire room with a grenade. Unfortunately, through a well thought out plan, or sheer dumb luck, the being wasn't standing on Jabba's trusty trap-door.

Being marginally smart (if he did say so himself), Lando had come up with quite possibly his Worst Plan Ever (after the... _incident_ that had led to him working undercover on Tatooine in the first place, anyway). While the being (a bounty hunter, he guessed) was distracted by everything going on in front of him, Lando had (idiotically, because apparently idiocy was catching) taken advantage of being the completely ignored clean-up guy. He snuck up on the _apparently_ male being (honestly it was hard to tell), making use of his...her... _its_ mask's blind spots. With a shocking amount of ease (and really, didn't that just prove his point about the creature's intellect?), he had simply snatched the grenade out of its hand. It had turned to stare at him, and he had stared back at it for a precious moment, before he dove toward the button on Jabba's throne that opened the large trap door. By that point, sentients were running around the room wildly, expecting the grenade to go off at any moment, and frankly he had been close to joining them (what had he been _thinking?!_ ).

Okay, so maybe he was a little hysterical.

But really, how could he not be? Because after what was surely the galaxy's most _barely_ _adequate_ underhanded toss, the grenade had bounced once before falling into the massive hole in the ground in front of the hutt's throne, just as he had hoped. And he had closed the trap-door, just as he had planned. And it had exploded, just as they had all expected.

And now, _somehow_ , he was kneeling, face-to-floor in front of a furious crime lord (next to the corpse of said idiotic bounty hunter), because he had had the audacity to save all of their lives by killing off the large being's _favourite pet_.

 _Just_ his bloody luck.

Solo had damn well better be grateful for everything that he was going through to save him, (disregarding the fact that he was the reason the man was a human ornament, of course).

His nose tickled due to the dirt he was forced to breathe due to proximity, and he tried his hardest not to sneeze. Or scream like a prepubescent boy.

How he had gotten here from his comparatively comfortable job as a delivery boy in a little over a day and a half...

He just hoped he didn't die.

* * *

Luke awoke, shivering painfully, and instinctively tried to curl in further on himself for any source of warmth. The motion sent further pain racking through his body, as his already tense muscles protested the action.

"Ack, don' move too fast lad," a familiar male voice spoke, and Luke's eyes snapped open.

Pain shot through his skull, and he hissed, as the well lit room made his head pound due to his earlier head-injury.

"Oi vey," the voice continued to talk in a friendly tone. "Yeh really should know better than that. Ye got a good-sized knot on the side o' yer head."

Luke slowly connected the dots as his muddled mind caught up with the situation. The dead comrades. The betrayal by one of the Captain's people. The _lies_ that the Captain had fed them. He forced his eyes open in order to snarl at the man, "You!"

The Captain chuckled jovially, "Got a wonderful temper on yeh, don'tcha?" He smiled, and scratched his scruffy face as he settled back to sit on his heels, "Ye don' trust yer instincts 'nough though, lad." He slapped Luke on the shoulder playfully, causing Luke to cringe as the jostling. "Tah be honest ye shouldn'a sensed nothin' anyhow, but ye sure 'nuff did, didn'tcha? Guess tha's sumthin' tah be proud of, yeah?"

Luke opened his mouth to curse the brown-haired man to the depths of the nearest saarlac pit, but the surprisingly agile male reached forward and tapped him on the mouth with a tisk, and a suddenly dangerous gleam in his matching dark brown eyes, "Nah lad, none o' that now. I ain't done talkin' yet."

Luke opened his mouth again defiantly, but to his quickly rising horror, he realized that he couldn't speak. His eyes widened, and against his pained body's wishes, he forced himself up enough to scramble backward until he hit a wall that was still much closer than he wanted to be to that _man._ Without Luke noticing, his breaths shortened into panicked gasps.

"Oi, oi. Calm down lad," the rather plain looking male snorted derisively. "Ain't no use fer fear no-how," he added with a scowl.

At the man's comment, Luke grew frustrated with himself. The "Captain," or whoever he really was, was correct unfortunately.

With an immense amount of willpower, he forced himself to breathe more slowly.

"There's a good lad," the supposed captain said with a lopsided smile, his tone clearly condescending, and Luke bristled in response. Instinctively he fought against his rising anger, and schooled his features into a blank expression instead of the contorted sneer that it wanted to form into. He wasn't quite able to cool the fiery emotion that had begun to simmer in him at man's goading, but even appearing calm could give him an advantage.

The man's smile only widened at Luke's expression, "Such adamant insistence on restraint. It would be remarkable if you haven't lost control yet."

Luke immediately became even more wary as the man's voice smoothed out, and his accent changed with no warning. He opened his mouth to respond instinctively, but was caught yet again by the reminder that his voice was gone.

The man laughed again, before his expression also abruptly shifted, and became serious. His cold russet eyes bore into Luke with the acuteness of a predator, "You would like to know who I am." He tilted his head, seemingly dissecting Luke with a glance, "That is something you will have to earn, young Force user." He leaned in closer and shifted back to his earlier train of thought with disturbing enthusiasm, "Have you hurt anyone yet, boy? Did you want to?"

Momentarily startled by the line of questioning, the memory of injuring Wedge and the guilt that accompanied it drifted to the front of his mind, before Luke stubbornly shuffled the thought to the side and shook his head. He wouldn't let the man get to him.

The older man chuckled anyway, the sound taking on an unbalanced tone, "Oh, I know that expression. There's no use in feeling guilt, boy. It doesn't serve you."

Luke's suspicion shifted as his mind began to make connections: the way this male and the woman spoke about him, the change in accents, and the way they had been able to affect him with little more than a touch. The two were Force-users, and apparently dark ones at that, if the man's rhetoric was anything to go by.

The male, who was obviously not the Captain Killian Scott he had claimed to be, seemed to see or sense Luke's growing understanding, because his responding smile was reminiscent of a feral nexu. "Ah, now you're starting to get it, aren't you?" he commented, then his entire countenance shifted yet again, and for some reason he looked completely furious, "Good." The male sneered, "First thing we'll be working on is eliminating the obviously _Jedi_ influenced beliefs you've got stuck in your head." The man spit out the term for the users of the Light Side of the Force as if it were something truly vile.

Witt that statement the male stood, and towered over Luke's hunched form with a critical look in his eyes. If Luke was honest with himself, he was hard-pressed not to shrink in even further on himself as the male continued to speak, "Shouldn't be too hard. You've already got _plenty_ of anger to work with." He reached forward, and this time Luke couldn't stop himself from trying to get further away. The male laughed harshly, knowingly almost, then spoke a final time, "Something tells me your temper is genetic."

If Luke had been cold before, now it felt like the entire planet of Hoth had dropped into his stomach. Somehow this man knew something.

Before he could fully process anything, the imposter's finger had come into contact with his head, and he felt darkness trying to drag him back into nothingness for the second time. This time he fought against it desperately with the knowledge of what was happening to him, but all it gained him was a few short seconds.

Seconds in which he saw the fake captain's form shift and become visibly larger.

* * *

Lando decided he must be in some kind of shock, as he calmly started putting on various pieces of mismatched bounty hunter gear. Apparently once the hutt had gotten over the "horrific loss" of his pet, he had realized that methods aside, Lando had saved his vile hide.

Who knew that saving the boss in an attempt to keep his own sorry ass alive was the fastest way to a good promotion, _and_ his own room with the first sonic shower he had seen since he had gone undercover?

After putting on some (thankfully matching) armoured boots that fit him, he perused the rest of his options, wondering how many bounty hunters had died to make up the numerous racks of gear that made up one of the hutt's armouries.

(And wasn't that a morbid thought that should probably horrify him? Either he really _was_ in shock, or Tatooine's specific brand of apathy was truly starting to get to him.)

Once he had tried on and discarded several other pieces of armour until he found pieces that worked, he began to rifle through the even larger racks of weaponry. Truly, this must be a weapon-nut's wet-dream, because there was a bit of everything to choose from. He ended up deciding on two basic pistol style blasters, and a rifle, to go with the built in retractable vibro-blades in the bracers he had picked.

Endless possibilities or not, he knew his limits, and they included excessive hand-to-hand combat and unwieldy weaponry in general.

After checking everything over to make sure it worked, he finally turned toward the shelving units of helmets with a grimace. He absolutely did _not_ want to wear one; Tatooine was already hot enough as it was, and he just _knew_ it would ruin his skin, but it would greatly help to hide his identity. Of course, there were also the added gadgets in the visors to think of, not to mention the protective function that came from simply wearing it in the first place, but still… Lando absolutely despised discomfort.

With a long sigh, he rubbed his hands over his newly shaven face and head (a decision he tried _very_ hard not to regret), then started picking through the shelves, looking for something light, but sturdy; something that would hopefully breathe enough so that he wouldn't feel like he was suffocating preferably.

He ended up picking a light grey helmet, with a vaguely Mandalorian design, because he was pretty sure that _looking_ menacing was half of the job anyway.

Lando fingered the helmet a moment, then popped it over his head, and stepped in front of the oddly convenient mirror (really the room was designed more like a locker room than what he had expected from an arsenal), as he fiddled with the buttons that controlled the helmet's settings.

After flipping through a targeting scope, and a macrobinocular option, he muttered to himself, "Easy enough I guess." Halfway through the statement he bumped a button that was obviously a voice-changer and nearly gave himself a heart-attack, because the last half of what he said sounded like it had come from a particularly demented droid.

Once his heart stopped trying to escape from his chest, he decided that the function was actually pretty useful. It certainly added to the menace factor anyway. After a few other useful settings, he hit the button that turned on the helmet's infrared scanner. The black tinted visor glowed red in his reflection.

Okay, now he looked positively demonic.

 _'That. Is. Awesome!'_ was his inner child's unsurprising, instinctive reaction.

He snorted at himself and slid the helmet off, before turning it in his hands to look at it directly.

After several moments' perusal, he had to agree with his initial juvenile response. The helmet _did_ look pretty cool.

_(Not that he would ever tell anyone that; after all, he had his image as a suave lady's man to keep up.)_

Whenever this was over with, he promised himself that he was swearing off wearing anything less comfortable than silk. It was the only way he could fully salvage his reputation by this point.

That and he was _so_ tired of constantly being itchy.

With that final optimistic thought, he pressed a few buttons on the helmet to turn off the infrared, and turn the voice-changer back on, before he forced the helmet back over his head. After a now-stifled breath, he turned toward the reinforced door and stepped outside.

It was time to go pretend to be a badass personal body-guard to one of the galaxy's biggest (and short-tempered) criminals.

No pressure. Again.

After all, one of his favourite mottos _was,_ "Fake it, 'til you make it."

* * *

Wedge Antilles considered himself to be pretty level-headed most of the time. Sure, he liked to tell jokes with the best of them (and pilots in the Alliance _loved_ their jokes), but when he need to be serious he was, and when it came down to it he was usually able to make rational decisions, even while under pressure. It was that exact combination that made him so good at controlling the chaos that was the Rogue Squadron; something that he and Luke had in common, until the blonde had started getting pulled further and further into a nearly extinct belief system, with actual powers that went with it.

Watching the changes in the younger male after he returned from wherever it was that he went after Hoth was more than slightly disquieting at first, and now it had reached the point of being downright alarming. Sure, the teen-turned-young-adult, had his moments of easy control, and he had never seen anyone move like Luke did effortlessly, but Wedge knew his wing-man was barely keeping himself together sometimes. The young Lieutenant Commander was able to keep a cool enough head when he was busy (he did well enough for the most-part when he had people to talk to, plans to make, or he knew other people were counting on him), but it was obvious to Wedge that he was putting on a brave face some of the time to cover his own distress. Unfortunately, that was half of what it took to lead people in times of conflict, so until recently he had thought Luke's increasingly troubled state was a side-effect from the stress of the war.

Now he knew it was something far more concerning, and Wedge felt like he was watching his squadron leader visibly collapse in on himself, as little bits of him eroded and wore away.

That it had taken a full-on breakdown in the _Corellia's Luck's_ hangar, which had ended with Luke in the infirmary, before he had finally begun to realize just how bad the situation had gotten, honestly still horrified him.

_A conflicted look, before the younger male abruptly looked away, appearing stressed._

Wedge had reached forward out of concern, only to have his hand tossed to the side. The unexpected action was accompanied by PAIN, and some primal part of him had only seen someone that had hurt him.

It had made him defensive, which had not gotten a good reaction from the already stressed blonde.

_(Almost feral, yet somehow shrewd pale blue eyes that looked frigid without their usual warmth, glowered blankly ahead.)_

_Somehow Wedge just_ knew _the owner of those eyes was calculating if it would be worth the effort to massacre everyone on board the ship to achieve whatever goal he (and Wedge still hesitated to call the person with those eyes Luke even now) had in that moment._

A sudden shift in Luke's countenance had come from seemingly nowhere, and then whatever energy had shocked Wedge turned against Luke, and the shorter male was arching in pain.

Unable to touch Luke out of fear, Wedge had cleared the hangar instead.

" _All of you; get out," Wedge demanded with a commanding glare, and the five or so sentients that were lurking nearby began leading a mass exodus out of the hangar._

It was funny how acting like you knew what you were doing got results so easily, because he had _no_ idea what to do at the time. He had watched helplessly as his friend's body had eventually bowed so harshly it would have been agonizing, had he not been under the effects of the cruel energy that had managed to numb Wedge's hand after less than a second's worth of contact.

After a watching for what felt like eternity, the energy seemed to release Luke, but something was still clearly wrong.

_Animosity twisted his wing-man's expression into something terrible as those cruel empty eyes glared at nothing, and "Shut up you kriffing farm-bitch!" echoed in the now-empty hangar._

_Then, with a suddenness that was unnerving those eyes were twisted with conflict again, before he was met with the horror filled eyes of the Luke he knew._

In the aftermath, Luke had almost seemed like a young child, and watching his friend's obvious stress and self-loathing had been painful in its own way. Wedge had never felt as incapable of comfort as he had that day.

Or so useless.

_How was he supposed to help with something he could barely wrap his mind around? The Force? Jedi? Sith? Light and Dark? Oh, Luke had explained more after the encounter with the Clones, but to be honest, he was still just as much at a loss as he had been on that day in the hangar._

Now he sat surrounded by his squadron, as they waited in limbo for the two groups that had left to return from their missions. He looked at his chrono and frowned. Luke's group had been due for a status update almost three minutes ago, and yet no one had said anything.

This wasn't right.

He looked over at the Lieutenant and his frown deepened. The man had been very punctual with the radio checks up until that point, yet he was sitting calmly, and quietly conversing with a few others. With little more than a glance at the Rogues, Wedge stood and made his way over to their current leader, "Sir?" he said uncertainly.

"Yes, Antilles?"

"I thought you might have lost track of time," Wedge started, but the Lieutenant gave him a blank look. Worry spiked in him, and trickled down his spine like ice, "The Commander's group hasn't checked in."

The Lieutenant shrugged, and fear began to gnaw at Wedge's gut.

This was _wrong._

"I'm sure they're fine, Antilles. Nothing to worry about," the Lieutenant said knowingly.

Wedge looked at the Lieutenant incredulously for a brief moment, before his expression turned thoughtful, and then accepting. After beat he nodded in agreement, "Of course, Sir."

He turned around and returned to his squadron.

"Did he say anything, Wedge? It's been a bit since the last status check," Hobbie asked, with a hint of worry audible in his voice that was visible in the others' eyes.

Wedge quickly moved to assuage their fears as he settled down onto one of the bunks, "There's nothing to worry about, everything is fine."

His blanket statement to the group quickly calmed them and their focus shifted to other topics.

More time passed, but surely it couldn't be that big of a deal.

If there was anything to worry about, they would know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well… here I had been worried this chapter was going to be too short. Ha. I sure showed myself!
> 
> Anyway, hello again everyone! We're finally really closing in on the truth of the Allyuen Arc, hooray! Hopefully you're enjoying yourselves as much as I am. Also, I've never actually gotten far enough into anything I've written to warrant the idea of story arcs, so… I'm kinda proud of myself? Seriously guys, it's kind of amazing how motivated I've been with this story (and hopefully saying that won't jinx my enthusiasm).


	13. Conditioning

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._  

_Also, to avoid anyone feeling mislead by the listed chapter length, there is an approximately 865 word author's note at the end. The chapter itself is around 6,000 words long on its own._

 

Conditioning

Luke awoke to darkness and a dead cold that made the very marrow in his bones _ache_. Sluggishly his mind pieced together the coherence to wonder how he hadn't frozen to death.

A feminine laugh echoed quietly near him, and he tried pathetically to look around himself to find the source. "Poor child," the voice sing-songed mockingly. He knew that voice. It was...

_Fly-away blonde hairs poking out from under a winter hat. A sun-deprived hand with malicious intent, and a confusingly kind smile despite her betrayal._

_Mercurial grey eyes with even more volatile mood-swings._

"You again," he mouthed silently, and he wasn't sure if he had no voice because of the temperature, or _that man._ He shivered painfully.

"Me again," she agreed aloud, before her familiar figure coalesced out of nothing and glowed softly against the blackness.

"What..." he mouthed soundlessly, and this time going by her expression he could tell that it wasn't just the cold.

She was grinning so widely he thought it might split her face open, and she would start bleeding.

_It would serve her right._

"What indeed," she mocked, then tilted her head in a feline manner that reminded him of Irys. "You know it's not _really_ that cold, right?" She wagged her finger at him as if he had the voice to protest her statement, "And I don't just mean because you're from some planet with two local stars. Honestly, I would have thought you might have noticed by now, since you're actually frustratingly observant for someone so untrained..." she mused aloud. "Then again, I guess we _were_ distracting you a bit with the whole killing your comrades thing," she shrugged with a wry smile.

Up until the final comment, Luke was looking at her like she was insane, then his anger simmered to life. Now that part of him knew to pay attention, the room seemed to warm, and he gasped in shock. The consequential distraction from his anger made the temperature plummet again.

 _No._ He stared at her in denial. _No way._

She grinned, "See, I knew you caught on to things quickly." She took up an almost scholarly expression, "The Dark Side, in its unused base state, is generally considered to be cold. Of course, there are exceptions, but in this case it's quite true."

_No. Nonono._

" _There's something not right here…" Luke said hesitantly as he stood, still covered in sweat from the humidity and heat of Dagobah. "I feel cold…" a shiver ran down his spine, and he trailed off then whispered, "Death."_

_Yoda pointed to an opening that was partially obscured by a tree, "That place... is strong with the Dark Side of the Force. A domain of evil it is. In you must go."_

_It was the same._

She continued on, ignoring his obvious distress, "Because Allyuen is so cold naturally it's much harder to notice, even for the well trained. Really, it's an amazing camouflage – completely fascinating to be honest." Her eyes seemed to glow silver in her intellectual fascination, then she grinned sharply, "It also makes for quite the trap." She gestured around him in an almost dramatic fashion, "Congratulations, you've accidentally landed yourself in a Dark Side Nexus."

_Wait, what?_

The woman looked him over then snorted derisively and dropped her arms, "You have no idea what that means, do you? In fact, you really don't seem to know much at all." She shook her head in disgust, turned away from him, and began to pace, "What idiot started training you and didn't finish? Raw talent is nothing without experience! They better be dead. At least _that_ would be a good reason." She glanced over at him, and apparently read the negative in his expression, "Fan-freaking-tastic. That's one plan down the drain." Luke watched warily as she yanked the hat off of her head and threw it at the ground with a curse. It was obvious to him that she was getting worked up as he watched her run her hands through her hair jerkily and mutter to herself in agitation. After a brief moment she whipped back around and pointed at him, "This is _such_ banthashit! How in the hells am I supposed to work with this?! Our first chance in who even knows how long, and we get _this!"_

She twisted her hand and Luke was suddenly slammed against a wall before he was lifted by an invisible grip around his neck, the rough stone scraping painfully against him. Instinctively Luke scrabbled uselessly against his throat with his hands, as he gasped for air.

"I should just kill you now," she growled, looking unhinged with her hand outstretched in front of her like a claw, and despite the fact that she was in the process of killing him, or maybe because of it, he felt his mind drift like it had during the meeting at the beginning of all of this...

_An eerie black container split open with a hiss, as its interlocking parts separated like blunted teeth, to reveal a brightly lit white inside that contrasted starkly with the figure it contained. "What is it, General?" a deep baritone boomed amid familiar machine-made hissing breaths._

_The General - Veers, something niggling at the back of his mind seemed to say - stood nervously, but spoke with the clipped professionalism of the military, "My Lord, the fleet has moved out of lightspeed. Com-scan has detected an energy field protecting an area of the sixth planet of the Hoth System. The field is strong enough to deflect any bombardment."_

_This was the man that had lead the attack on Hoth..._

_Luke's eyes narrowed, even as the ghost of Vader's temper started to swirl through the Force around him, "The Rebels are alerted to our presence. Admiral Ozzel came out of lightspeed too close to the system."_

_This time when the General spoke it was with obvious hesitation, "He... he felt surprise was wiser…"_

_At the General's words his father's Force presence spiked and twisted wildly._

_Incompetence._

_Despite the maelstrom that Luke could feel seething around his father, the Sith's words came out flat, barely betraying the true level of his anger at all, "He is as clumsy as he is stupid! General... prepare your troops for a surface attack."_

_It was clear that the General had a good sense of self-preservation, because after a quick, "Yes, my Lord," he made his way from the rom._

_Luke watched in morbid fascination as the intimidating figure of his father turned, and a screen on the wall flickered to life to show an Admiral and a Captain. The two appeared startled, but quickly recovered themselves, before the Admiral stepped forward and spoke, "Lord Vader, the fleet has moved out of lightspeed -"_

_The fires of his father's Force presence seemed to sharpen, and Luke stopped listening to what was being said. He knew what was coming, even as the air seemed to shift around him._

_He had seen the Sith Lord do this once before, though the realization that he could do it over this much distance was staggering…_

_So strong._

_On-screen Ozzel froze mid-sentence and began to gasp and clutch at his throat._

_(Just like Luke in this very moment.)_

_Pathetic._

" _You have failed me for the last time, Admiral!" his father boomed with morbidly ironic dryness. Luke could almost_ taste _the contempt Vader held for the man._

_Insignificant, WEAK worm._

_The conversation continued, but Luke could only look at the dying ex-Admiral as he gasped like a fish helplessly._

_Did he look like that right now?_

_The ex-admiral collapsed out of view, as Luke watched unable to look away._

_Pitiful._

_Weak._

He was abruptly yanked back into the present.

Pathetic.

There was no way he was going to die like that. Luke may not be as strong as Ben, much less Yoda, or his father, but this was just pitiful.

Frustration and anger at himself and the entire situation built in him, and _oh_ , now that he knew what to look for, the room really _did_ seem much warmer.

_It felt so NICE after being so cold._

He glowered at the woman, and for a moment all he could think of was making her _hurt_.

Before he could do much more than think that, the invisible grip around his neck began to tighten in increments as she started to go through with her threat. It was enough to distract him from the increasing temptation to use the darkness that seemed to come so easily here.

_No. He couldn't do that..._

_He still had people counting on him. He had to control himself._

The temperature seemed to fluctuate around him and he realized he felt endless little hooks of what had to be Darkness writhing against him – some which were already firmly embedded, a distant part of him noticed with worry – before his ability to breathe was completely cut off. He decided he would have to panic about that later because there wasn't anything he could do about it while he was being strangled.

With a stubbornness that came from growing up on a planet that could barely sustain life, Luke focused on surviving without losing himself in the process.

With an increasing level of calm that ironically came from his steady loss of oxygen he managed to pull the Force to himself, but to his distant frustration he couldn't do anything with it as his body began to feel heavy.

_He absolutely refused to die like this. It was pathetic._

A jumbled up mixture of stubbornness, frustration, desperation, worry, defensiveness, and aggravation swelled in him, and the Force that he had gathered to himself exploded forward in a barely controlled push that sent the female flying backward like a ragdoll.

Without pausing to think he dove after her and pinned her to the ground, with his robotic hand wrapped firmly around her throat, as he finally gasped in enough air to fill his burning lungs.

She laughed.

It started as a low chuckle, and escalated into a wild shrill cackle as Luke watched disturbed. Her shoulder-length blonde hair framed her fair face in tangles and unwashed greasy strands as her expression twisted from her previous volatile anger into crazed mania. Her eyes were the most disquieting change of all, because unlike when she had pinned him to the floor during the ambush, there were unnatural and sickly yellow splotches spread across the previously solid grey of her irises.

He had never seen anything like it.

Luke shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze, illogically wanting to let her go in favour of getting _very far away._ Instead, he swallowed down his unease and tightened his grip pointedly, before he glared at her since he had no way to vocalize his demands.

Her laughter died abruptly though her eyes gleamed at him in amusement, "I can see why The Marauder likes you. So much conflict. It's a wonder you are not a darkling already with how untrained you are..." The yellow seeped out of her eyes and she looked at him with an academic, and perhaps even awed, fascination, "Yes. The Force sings so beautifully for you." She shifted and her expression slipped into something akin to jealousy, "Light or Dark, both would kill to have you I think." She lifted her hand as if he didn't have her in a loose stranglehold and brushed it against Luke's cheek, much more wistfully than the first time when she had ambushed him, "I wonder..."

After a moment she snatched her hand back and appeared to chastise herself, "I suppose it doesn't matter. He wants you tested, and he has always been strongest of us." She sighed, clearly resigning herself to something before her expression went flat, "A Dark Side Nexus is a place that is so heavily steeped in the Dark Side that it essentially becomes its own source of it. In many cases they are made when Dark Siders are killed and their essence saturates the area of their death. The strength and size of a that type of nexus varies depending on the strength and number of the deceased."

The woman's empty expression broke for a moment as she laughed wryly at her own comment, and Luke felt unease creep up his spine. "Allyuen in particular was the location of one of the many temples and academies of a Dark sect a thousand years ago," she continued on, resuming the same flat tone as before. "It was eventually abandoned and went unfound for centuries, but by the time of its abandonment, hundreds had already died while training there. Fortunately, over time, tectonic activity caused the entire abandoned compound to slide into a massive fault, unreachable from the outside, and thus contained."

Luke blinked in recognition. The mining facility was near a canyon.

Upon seeing his expression, the female nodded as much as she was able in her position, "For a while the planet was largely untouched, and eventually the tectonic activity settled. Then one day miners came to Allyuen in hopes of turning a profit by mining chromite. Everything went fine for decades, though the mining wasn't as good as everyone had hoped. Time passed peacefully, but unfortunately _this_ facility dug too deep one day, and broke through to an ancient tunnel that it shouldn't have," the blonde woman smirked. "After that, hardly any of the residents escaped, and the ones that did never came back." She shrugged awkwardly beneath Luke's grasp, "A lot of mining facilities were getting abandoned at the time, so no one took notice of one more, even if entire families disappeared without a trace." She met his eyes darkly, "It's a big galaxy. A hundred or so working-class sentients weren't going to be missed."

A creeping horror began to snake its way through Luke's mind as he began to make connections. If hundreds of partially or fully trained Darksiders had died on Allyuen, then that would make a _massive_ "nexus" if this woman was telling the truth (and he was inclined to believe she was). It didn't explain what happened to the miners though, unless... Luke looked down at the woman with a mixture of dread and desperation.

_Surely not._

She smiled knowingly, "Funny thing about Dark Side Nexuses: the stronger one is, the more it is able to effect the environment, and those in it. _Especially_ if they're Force Sensitive."

With no warning Luke was holding air as his hand reflexively clamped down on nothing. Her laughter echoed around him as he looked around blindly, before her voice seemed to echo inside his head, "Remember to use your anger if you don't want to freeze. Just because it's not _actually_ cold doesn't mean it can't kill you."

Luke felt a warm gust of air against his neck, and shivered at the contrast, as her voice continued with a more serious tone, "Everything is real here, even if it's not. Remember that."

Then Luke was alone in a pitch black space with no voice, and no idea where he was aside from knowing he was a few feet from a wall.

The frigid Dark crawled against his skin, and now that he knew what it was he could feel the slightest prickling against his skin as it tried to find something to latch onto.

_So very different from the Light's radiant warm caress, but not an entirely unpleasant feeling._

Dread seeped into his core and Luke shuddered – only half from the cold – as he was torn between curling in on himself in despair, and laughing bitterly at the unfairness of it all.

A chill wracked painfully through his body, and his survival instincts kicked in.

Okay, so anger apparently created warmth here. He could feel emotions without _using_ them though, couldn't he? Just like Wedge had said.

He could only hope that was the case. He hadn't ever tried to deliberately focus on his anger before, so he wasn't sure what would happen. He frowned in thought, even as another shiver racked his frame; it would probably be safer to start with a weaker emotion as a test. If he could at least get away with avoiding anger he would feel better about the whole thing.

With more than a little trepidation he focused on his frustration about the entire situation.

_Trapped on an ice desert planet, miles underground, with a force-damned sandstorm dancing on their heads..._

To his relief the room warmed slightly, and really Luke should probably have stopped there, but it was still uncomfortably cold, and now that he was thinking about everything it was _really_ hard to stop.

 _The fake Captain's disrespect and lies, the betrayal, his DEAD_ _comrades by battle and treachery._

Liquid heat seemed to blossom inside him and spread through his icy body.

Luke swore the Force _purred._

It was that disturbing realization more than anything, that allowed him to snap out of his steadily declining train of thought and refocus on nothing stronger than his frustration.

The temperature dropped back down again, but not quite as far as it had been initially. Even so, Luke involuntarily whimpered at the loss.

Horrified at his reaction, he forced himself to breathe steadily.

_It was just the loss of the warmth after being so cold._

He stubbornly ignored exactly how _pleasant_ the questing tendrils of darkness had felt when they didn't feel like ice.

This was just a way to keep himself from freezing.

A means to an end.

Luke quickly checked himself for any supplies he might use, but at some point during his unconsciousness someone had taken everything he had. He mentally cursed in frustration.

He was blind, defenseless, still unable to speak, and on top of it all, even under normal circumstances Luke didn't trust himself to deliberately use the Force for anything when his control on his emotional state was tenuous. Now that he was going against all of Yoda's teachings and focusing on his negative emotions deliberately, it was _especially_ true.

Luke sighed as he forced himself to stand up shakily and fumble his way blindly over to the wall he had been slammed into. Once he reached it he frowned to himself in added frustration; if he couldn't use the Force to figure out where to go, then one direction was just as good as the other. After a moment he shook his head in annoyance and picked a direction at random. He just hoped he wasn't going the wrong way.

=-.-=

Luke wasn't sure how long he had been walking blindly with the temperature ebbing and flowing in sync with his fluctuating emotions. It was harder than he had realized to constantly keep himself in a perpetual state of deliberately provoked annoyance. Too much, and is started to become full-blown anger; too little and he grew apathetic, which made the cold flood back in. He found himself constantly having to come up with little things in his life that upset him, digging further back as more time passed just for new material to pick at.

It was unpleasant reliving fragments of his life that he didn't like, and the realization that Darksiders probably had to do this on a continuous basis with things that angered them wasn't lost on him. Apparently for them, the past could never simply stay in the past, which probably meant that forgiveness was nearly impossible.

The fact that he was so easily able to latch onto things that he was still bitter about even months or years after the fact definitely wasn't worrying at all. Holding a grudge was a completely normal thing.

 _Looking back on it sometimes, Luke realized that meeting the self-styled "Ben" Kenobi while he was likely concussed probably went a long way towards his willingness to listen to his short explanation about the Force with any level of consideration when it was first brought up._..

.

..

.

 _..._ _Because maybe if Old Man Kenobi had put more effort into explaining how the different sides of the Force work instead of showing off to an ignorant farm-boy, and being deliberately vague before he died, Luke wouldn't be in the situation he was in now..._

His frustration at his current situation kicked up a notch and with it came that glorious warmth that sank into his very bones...

He dug further.

=-.-=

In the middle of a lovely bit of embittered reminiscing Luke tripped over _something_ and would have fallen flat on his face, had he not thrown out his right hand to catch himself. The connection between his false hand and his flesh throbbed painfully from the impact, and he grit his teeth in increased irritation. The now-familiar heat increased inside of him. He hadn't felt this clumsy since before Dagobah, given how easily the Force came to him by instinct on a normal basis. He felt stifled, and he had no one to blame but himself and his inability to safely draw on the Force because of his temper.

_A temper that just so happened to be preventing him from freezing._

_The entire situation was absolutely infuriating._

Whatever it was that he tripped over moved, quickly snapping Luke out of his emotional slide as he scrambled backward. After a moment whatever became _whoever_ as he heard a very humanoid moan. "Who's there?" Luke mouthed instinctively, but nothing came out.

_And when would he stop being surprised by that?_

The voice moaned again, before the being spoke in a familiar male voice, "Ow. What the hells hit me? Damn it's dark in here..."

Luke distantly heard the sound of fumbling, but he was still stuck on the owner of the voice. Luke's carefully cultivated aggravation drained away, and it was suddenly as if he had never been warm in the first place.

_What in the hells was Wedge doing down here?!_

A small portable light turned on, and Luke stared at the partially obscured features of his wing-man in the weak lighting.

"Luke?" the man asked in confusion, and Luke nodded hesitantly.

The dark haired man beamed and lunged forward to wrap Luke into a hug, "Oh man, it's good to see your face! Where have you been?! We were looking all over for days!"

Luke froze, and stared at the man in disbelief.

_Days._

There was no way, was there? He _had_ been knocked out twice, but still...

Wedge held him out at arm's length and looked at him in concern. Luke shrank under his gaze uncertainly as shivers started to wrack his body. Under his friend's discerning eyes, it was suddenly much harder to find the irritation necessary to keep himself warm.

_Shameful._

"Luke?" Wedge asked in response to Luke's lingering silence, "Are you okay?"

The obvious answer was no, but Luke pointed shakily at his lips deliberately and shook his head to indicate he couldn't talk instead of answering the question.

_He missed the warmth, and just admitting that to himself added to his mounting guilt._

Thankfully this managed to successfully divert Wedge's attention, "You... you can't talk?" Wedge asked uncertainly, and Luke nodded jerkily. "How in the stars... Never mind, we need to find the others. The Captain will be wondering where I am... Now if I could just remember how I got here..."

_The Captain._

Luke tensed at the amount of glorious heat that flooded him at the simple offhanded mention. As if "The Captain" had his well-being in mind.

_This was wrong._

Luke violently shoved the male away from him, making the small light clatter across the rough stone floor.

Luke briefly looked at his own outstretched hands in horror, but quickly shook his head in determination. There was no way that was Wedge. This was just like that _imposter_.

Before the older male could recover, Luke had him pinned to the floor, much like he had the woman earlier. Luke's expression twisted into a snarl as the Darkness picked against his weakening defences.

"Luke?!" absolutely-not-Wedge choked out. "What are you... doing? This isn't… you! You need… calm… down!"

Luke twitched at the plea, then looked away and forced himself to take a deep breath. After a moment, he turned and looked down at the man with cold steely eyes. He loosened his grip marginally.

Definitely-not-Wedge gasped in a lung-full of oxygen, "Luke, what the hells, man?"

There was so much Luke wanted to demand of him, but he couldn't say a single thing. His frustration grew.

As he scowled dangerously down at his captive, Luke saw the man look at him searchingly before his expression softened. Luke suddenly felt nausea as swept through him. That expression was so very typical of his wing-man that he was hard-pressed to see the stranger behind it that he expected.

_This wasn't Wedge... right?_

To Luke's mounting dismay, the man smiled awkwardly, "It's alright, Luke. Whatever's wrong, we'll figure something out, okay?"

Luke immediately let go of the man and scrambled away. It _was_ Wedge. Had to be.

_What had he done?!_

Luke flexed the robotic substitution for his lost hand, and wasn't it funny that he still felt warm?

Because right now he despised himself.

Wedge shifted around with a groan, and levered himself up off of the ground before he walked over and held out his hand to Luke calmly, "Come on, let's go."

Luke hesitantly took the offered hand.

_(How was the man STILL able to trust him so easily after what had happened? Luke could only beat himself up more.)_

Once the two were standing Wedge leaned over and pick up the dropped light. They began to walk in silence.

_(If Luke was already such a terrible friend anyway, what did it matter what he had to do to stay warm? It was hardly like he could be any worse.)_

Now that he was able to see slightly, Luke looked around at their surroundings as they continued forward, and his skin crawled as he took in ancient carvings and decaying decadence. This must be the compound that the woman had spoken of, though he had no idea how he had gotten there, much less...

"I don't remember seeing this stuff before I woke up..." Wedge broke the silence, and his wary voice followed Luke's unspoken train of thought. "Do you think someone moved me?"

Luke frowned uncertainly and shrugged. It was as likely as any answer he could come up with.

A noise clattered ahead of them, and Luke tensed warily before he looked at Wedge.

The other male shrugged and whispered, "Maybe it's part of the search party?"

Luke looked at the man doubtfully. Even if this really _was_ Wedge that he was walking through ruins with, he absolutely refused to believe that the Darksider "Captain" had any sort of good intentions. Something was very wrong with this situation, even now.

 _Especially now_.

They continued forward more carefully than before, but there was nothing they could do about their light giving them away. It was darker than pitch without it, and they couldn't deal with that sort of disadvantage.

After several long moments of quiet in which Luke had to fight with his emotions to remain warm, the two reached an atrium of sorts, and stepped inside. Their footsteps echoed around the large space, and Luke squinted, but most of the space remained in shadow. A scrambling noise echoed from somewhere in the room, and at first Luke thought it might have been some sort of rodent until a nearly stifled giggle echoed across the space.

"Who's there?" Wedge demanded, and Luke wanted to clap his hand over the man's mouth, because surely whoever they were wouldn't answer, and Wedge calling out would only give whoever it was an advantage. Instead, Luke settled for glaring, and the older man shrugged apologetically, "What? Sometimes it works, and they already know where we are any—"

"Foolish humans shouldn't have come here," a young voice called out, proving Wedge's point, then the voice – likely female – giggled again. This time it was met with the laughter of others.

Luke tensed, and took a step back toward the passage he and Wedge had just left. This was bad. Neither of them had weapons, and by the amount of laughter they were clearly outnumbered.

This was _very_ bad.

A young rodian clad in a clothing style that hadn't been common in several decades stepped forward into view, and smiled mischievously, "The Lady says you're here to play with us. Are you really?" Several other younglings of varying ages stepped forward to join her, some wearing similar or more recent styles, others wearing darkly coloured training garments or ceremonial robes

Wedge looked at Luke uncertainly, "I don't know what's going on, but they're just younglings."

Luke shook his head sharply, almost frantic as he tried to get his point across wordlessly. No. They might have been once, but if his suspicion was correct, then these children shouldn't even be alive still. No normal children would be this far underground here, wearing those clothes, and _he recognized that sickly yellow shade_ in some of their eyes.

It was unmistakeable, and seemed to glow despite the low lighting from their pitiful light source.

Cold that was entirely related to his sudden inability to hold onto any level of aggravation, much less anger, trickled down Luke's spine as his instincts _screamed._

_Wrong. Wrong. RUN._

It took more willpower than he had expected to remain still. Even if he and Wedge _did_ run, logic told him it would be useless.

Wedge took one look at Luke's expression, before he turned warily to face the group that was slowly creeping closer to them, "Um... We don't really have time to play..." he trailed off weakly, then seemed to gather himself. "We're actually looking for the people we came here with if..." here Wedge swallowed as he realized he had painted himself into a corner while pretending to be friendly. "If you want to come with us while we look you can." Luke wanted to curse.

_These weren't lost children that needed help finding their way!_

The statement was met with a rash of whispering, before the ones they could see all smiled at once. The first child spoke again, "Oh no, that won't do at all," she shook her head firmly. "You're going to stay here with us," she added with the sort of gravity that came with the truth.

Luke swore he hadn't even blinked, yet somehow he and Wedge were surrounded by the group and separated abruptly. The light was knocked out of Wedge's hand and clattered to the floor as he and Luke were both lifted up by small but strong hands, and for a moment Luke watched in frozen horror as they started to carry Wedge away.

The moment quickly passed, and he began to struggle wordlessly against numerous arms and hands. He was desperate to get free, but subconsciously unwilling to harm children, even as unnaturally ancient and strong as they seemed to be. It made the already hard task infinitely more difficult.

_And he couldn't use the Force here. Wouldn't. It was too dangerous. But…_

_Where were they taking Wedge?!_

The same giggle from earlier whispered against his ear, and he fought harder as the little rodian with misleadingly beautiful eyes that looked like opalescent space at this distance spoke quietly so that only he could hear, "I bet he'll make such a good toy. We get so _bored_ down here, but the Master has taught us the best ways to play!" The excitement in her voice made his skin crawl, and he fought all the harder.

"I wonder what sort of noises he'll make?"

Any reservations Luke had about their child-like appearance evaporated in an instant, as anger crawled dangerously up his throat, and filled his body with tantalizing warmth.

_But he absolutely would NOT use it._

With a hard yank, he pulled his right arm toward himself as much as he could, then let the tension in his arm go slack without warning. In the brief moment he had while his captors readjusted to the change, he twisted his arm, grabbed one of their arms and squeezed.

_If he could break a holopad, then a couple bones were nothing._

The pained shriek of a child scratched against his nerves, and nearly undid him because the bones didn't just snap; they were crushed and he could feel every bit of it.

_Don't think. Just move._

Before the rest of the group was able to react to his partial freedom, he bucked his body, and used the momentum to bring his arm across his body, wrenching it free from a second child, before his fist connected with the sternum of one of his captors on the other side of him. A pained wheeze was combined with an audible crack despite Luke pulling the punch, and the part of him not focusing on freeing himself to get to Wedge cringed.

Now that his upper body was only supported by one child Luke felt his stomach lurch as gravity rose to catch him. He followed through on his swing, and twisted his body until it faced downward before yanking his feet toward himself. The combination of the unexpected weight and his movements had him free, and he crashed to the ground before he scrambled awkwardly to get up.

 _Actively avoiding the Force was_ really _messing with his ability to do anything._

He stood panting, but found himself surrounded by the silhouettes of even more children, some clearly ranging into their teens. He silently cursed his luck, as he eyed the additional children warily. Apparently more had been hidden in the darkness, and he could still see the first group of shadowy figures clustered where he assumed Wedge was.

He glared at the ones surrounding him and gestured for them to move, sharply telegraphing his anger with the motion.

_Don't use it._

The same young rodian, probably the youngest one there he distantly registered, laughed then shook her head, "You're going to have to kill us if you want him human."

Time seemed to slow, and Luke looked around himself. Children or not, if he had been outnumbered before, he definitely was now. If only he could use the Force...

_Don't use it..._

There had to be another way…

Wedge's voice ripped through the darkness, staining it further with pain as it tore into Luke's conscience. He _had_ to save him.

_Don't think. Just MOVE._

Something centrally integral to Luke shifted.

.

..

…

..

.

He didn't even remember making the choice, but even if he had, he wouldn't have expected anything like _this._

He looked around himself hollowly at the aftermath of what he might have considered a Force push, had all of the young bodies not still been flying through the air or scraping across the ground.

He had never been able to do much more than gently shove people and things out of his way with a radial push; he hadn't been trained well enough to pull off anything stronger than that without it being more focused in a single direction.

Some of them landed with a crunch that barely registered with him.

This was completely beyond what he could have ever expected.

_The difference in power was staggering… it was almost unfair._

.

..

…

..

.

_NO._

Time caught up with him and he was looking the silhouettes of at least a dozen broken bodies, all far too small. The image branded itself across his mind, and he collapsed.

_How had... this was…he would never... but…_

He clenched his hands in front of him, and somehow it felt ironic that they weren't covered with blood.

The Dark Side coiled around him, and that woman was right, it really did seem to be singing. He tried to shove it away, but even so it still clung to him gleefully.

Because in that moment he completely and utterly _hated_ himself.

His stomach rebelled and he emptied its contents on the floor violently.

 

* * *

 

_**AN:** When I was editing this chapter I realized that I reminded myself of the part in The Lost Boys where David describes what happened to the hotel they live in. Entirely unintentional, but hey, that movie IS awesome. Also, hey look! A throwback to chapter one!_

_Anyway, I wanted to take a moment to thank all of the people that have left comments or fav'd/followed so far. I kid you not, it brightens my day just seeing the alerts, and reading the comments generally just makes me beam like a kid with a present._

_Gushing about you guys aside, gotta love that negative reinforcement with a positive reinforcement spin, am I right?_

_In all seriousness though… in order to elaborate on SOME of what's going on here, it's time for some Watered Down Psychology with Laz (aka Random Info: The Wall o' Text Version)._

_For those of you that know about the term Skinner's Box, this will all seem rather familiar. For those of you that are less familiar, it was part of a psychology experiment conducted by one B.F. Skinner, in which he attempted to train rats to respond to different types of stimulus while keeping them in a contained environment with no outside influences (thus the box and experiment's nickname). He called this "Operant Conditioning." Skinner essentially believed that people have zero free will, and that any person could be trained to do anything if given the right stimulus._

_For the sake of simplicity and relevance I'm going to focus on explaining Positive and Negative stimulus._

_On the positive side of the spectrum, whenever the rats in his experiment pushed a lever they were rewarded… up to a point. Skinner found that the best way to continue receiving the best results from positive reinforcement was to randomize whether or not a reward was received, and to decrease the number of rewards. This worked because there was always that slight possibility of getting that reward. In a way I find it very similar to how addiction works._

_On the opposite side of the spectrum there was negative reinforcement. In this environment the box was electrified. The rats would essentially flail around the cage until they hit a lever that turned off the electrical current. Eventually the rats would learn to push the lever immediately to prevent the pain. They could even be trained to respond to a warning stimulus that the electricity was about to start, so that they would push the lever preemptively, thus avoiding the electricity altogether._

_Obviously there were plenty of dissenting opinions to his concept of no free will, and to the extent that a person/animal could be trained using stimulus, but that doesn't change the fact that it does work at some levels. We see it every day when we are rewarded for doing something, or learn the best way to avoid a negative result._

_Thus bears the question: if a person really was left in a contained environment of reward/prevent… what would the end result be?_

_With that bit of context, here we have Luke alone in complete darkness with some "friendly" advice claiming that a little bit of negative emotion is the only thing that can keep him from dying. This seems harmless enough; though I'm sure Yoda would be having a conniption fit (and rightly so, because the source of the changes in "temperature" is literally the Dark Side reacting to stimulus and a lack thereof). Luke adapts to the situation's guidelines and becomes perhaps not comfortable, but certainly used to using his emotions to stay warm. It helps that in avoiding freezing to death, he ALSO receives a reward: warmth that is unnaturally pleasant (because, again, it's not truly warmth). Thus we have a bit of positive reinforcement with the negative._

_Along comes Wedge, and the status quo is shaken up. Now we have an outside influence that Luke cares about strongly (once Luke decides Wedge really is who he says he is). Luke feels ashamed by his dependence and what he has been doing, BUT he still needs the warmth in order to survive and part of him wants that warmth just because it feels good. The "conditioning" holds up the moment he decides it's no worse than what he has already done, and he forced himself to push past his increasing misgivings and discomfort. In doing so he continues further down that rabbit hole._

_Now we have a Luke, who has willingly gone past his unease and shame over using his anger to his advantage, though he still refuses to acknowledge that he is "using" his anger at all. In his stubborn denial he tells himself what he is doing is okay because he's not using the Dark Side, and it's for a good cause: his survival._

_The situation is further complicated by his continued guilt over almost harming his friend for the second time, his protective instinct, and his feelings of weak helplessness. By the time that Wedge is finally hurt, using the Dark Side of the Force by instinct for the briefest of moments isn't quite so far of a reach._

_He was already halfway there anyway, whether he acknowledged it or not._

_Toodles~ ( / ^ ワ^ )/_

 


	14. Justification

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

_Also, to avoid anyone feeling mislead by the listed chapter length, there is an approximately 850 word author's note at the end. The chapter itself is around 5,750 words long on its own._

Justification

"—ke? Are you okay? Luke?!" A panicked male voice filtered and shifted through his scrambled mind until he realized _he_ was Luke, and the voice was talking to him.

"Wedge?" Luke croaked weakly.

"Kriffing hells Luke, are you okay?" the man paused to breathe in harshly, before he continued to speak. "What the hell was that explo—wait… You can talk!" the man exclaimed as he gingerly stepped over… Luke cut off that thought before it could continue and focused on his wingman instead.

"I'm fine…" Luke rasped, and he really _could_ talk. "What did they do to you?"

Wedge grimaced and shifted enough that Luke could see him cradling his right arm against himself. The Darkness whispered memories of…

_Pain as something snapped and tore. So much pain. Fear, because they were preparing to do so much worse…_

_Relief when they ran._

Luke's breath caught in his throat, and he shoved the hungry Darkness back, along with the anger that surged within him at what it had disclosed.

_Despite his efforts, he was still comfortably warm, and the realization made his skin turn clammy._

"Luke? Are you sure you're okay?" the man asked in obvious worry, before he hissed in agony when a slight misstep caused his arm to bounce against his side (and the bitter irony that the injured man was the one asking the question made Luke's stomach turn all over again).

Luke heaved in a harsh breath, then nodded, "I'm fine." He forced himself to meet the other man's pained eyes, "Really."

Wedge frowned, but accepted the answer, then collapsed more than sat down beside Luke with a groan as he jostled his injury. He took a moment to gather himself then spoke, "I was able to use the hypospray from my emergency kit for a pain suppressant, an antibiotic, and a coagulant, but I couldn't make a sling." He shifted and pulled the emergency kit out of one of the pockets on his cargo pants, "Could you make one for me?"

Luke nodded and took the kit from him, grateful that the man still had it in the first place.

As Luke opened the small kit, Wedge spoke again, "Do you know what that explosion was?"

Luke fingered the cloth for the sling, uncertain how to answer, before he shook his head. The motion caused him to catch a glimpse of something glistening down Wedge's arm.

"Wedge?" Luke asked, his tone turning severe as his rising anger stoked the warmth in him further. "Why were you bleeding?"

"Hah," the man laughed weakly. "I guess it seeped through." He shifted and grimaced as pain radiated off of him into the Force, "The… the bone punctured my arm when they broke it. I used my belt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding until I could get the hypospray prepped." He huffed out a helpless laugh, "I just didn't want to worry you any more than you already were."

Luke's anger flared fully to life, and suddenly he didn't regret the broken bodies lying in a circle around him.

_They deserved it._

Between one blink and the next the corpses disappeared, and a familiar giggle echoed in his mind even as Wedge gasped in shock.

Luke's skin crawled.

"Well that's two steps down," that childish female voice said in a teasing tone. "Sure was easy enough. Maybe the Master will even reward us," the disembodied voice of the small rodian added in obvious excitement.

She should be _dead_. He had seen the bodies…

_But wasn't it a good thing if he hadn't actually killed them? He hadn't meant to in the first place…_

A shudder passed through Luke, and he realized that suddenly it was much easier to keep the creeping Darkness at bay. Coldness began to seep back into his bones as relief crashed through him.

_He had wanted to get past them, yes, but never to kill._

"Don't lie to yourself Dark Initiate, you know what you thought," the female snapped in an accusing tone. "You are not nearly so innocent as that."

Luke's emotions twisted again and knotted as he felt the blood drain from his face.

_Dark Initiate._

"You used the Darkness human. That took intent and willpower. The Darkness does not submit to weak-willed commands, and you wanted to save your battle-brother no matter what it took. It merely responded to your wishes." Another giggle crawled across his mind uncomfortably, "The best part is that You. Felt. Vindicated."

For a brief moment Luke felt frozen to the core; then his self-hatred roared back to life in barbed claws that sank into him, bringing with it the warmth that he was quickly growing painfully familiar with.

_It almost felt like it was trying to comfort him, and wasn't that just disturbing?_

"Luke?" Wedge asked uncertainly, and Luke's eyes darted over to the other man's in guilty agitation. As soon as Wedge saw he had Luke's attention he spoke again, sounding shaken, "I don't suppose you have _any_ idea what's going on?"

Luke looked around them at the shadowed floor, and for a brief moment his mind superimposed broken beings. He cringed, and the nightmarish image was gone, but...

_He was so messed up. How could he have done that?_

Luke returned his attention to the cloth from the kit and started to make it into a sling with shaky hands and spoke with a contrasting steadiness that surprised him, "I don't think they were real Wedge."

"Not... real? They sure as shit _felt_ real, Luke," the man responded incredulously.

Luke gently worked the sling under the male's arm, and secured it around his neck (and if Wedge felt the tremor in his hands he didn't say anything). After he was done he scrubbed his fingers through his hair (when had he lost his hat?) and stood, "This place... it's some kind of really messed up Force anomaly."

"Messed up Force anomaly? You mean like the Dark Side?" Wedge asked hesitantly.

Luke nodded, grateful that he didn't have to say the words aloud, "I had thought maybe it kept them alive all these years, but now I don't know what to think. Nothing here makes sense."

Wedge hissed in distaste, "That's horrible. No wonder this mission has been messing with your head."

"Messing with my..." Luke started doubtfully, but then he _really_ started to think. Sure he had been having issues controlling his emotions, but when had it _really_ started to become a problem?

When did everything begin to truly break down?

_"Commander Skywalker, we have a situation at a previous base that we will be discussing tomorrow," Mon Mothma stated formally as Luke sat with the Rogues at breakfast. "Here are the debriefing files. The meeting will take place at 19:00." She passed a data chip to Luke, and he nodded respectfully. Once she walked away he turned the chip around between his fingers curiously, then pocketed it and returned to the conversation with the others._

_The next day, he dreamed and awoke to a broken holopad._

Everything was this Force-forsaken place's fault. Luke scowled angrily. The Darkness caressed him, and he wanted to shake it _off_.

_He was supposed to be better than this._

"You might be right, Wedge," he bit out, then he saw Wedge's concerned expression. He dragged his hand through his hair again in distress, and breathed out heavily as he tried to calm his thoughts.

Wedge was injured. He couldn't afford to lose his head right now.

The Darkness backed off willingly for once, and oddly seemed chastised. It was a strange moment, and Luke tried not to think about it too hard as he held out his hand to help the other man stand up again, "We need to find the others. You need medical treatment."

Neither of them mentioned how lost they were.

Luke picked up the flashlight this time, and continued to support Wedge as they moved forward again.

=-.-=

Luke looked around as he and Wedge settled down at the base of a statute to allow the man to rest. The dark-haired male had been weakening steadily as time dragged on, and Luke knew that the situation was grim. Frustration twisted through worry, and the now-constant presence of lingering warmth increased slightly, before he shoved it away as far as it would go.

He shifted uncomfortably and tried to focus on what he could see: statues, carvings...

_No matter what he did, the warmth of the Darkness clung to him._

... pillars, some sort of throne...

Laughter echoed around the room, and Luke cursed as he looked around franticly for the source.

"That sounds like..." Wedge began weakly, and Luke hushed him, his expression wild with fear and anger.

_The imposter._

Luke stood in front of Wedge protectively, even as fear crawled through his gut. He had no idea if he would even be able to do anything against the man that had stolen his voice earlier, but his anger gave him courage.

"Aye, there's a good lad. Looks like Maru was right, ye do pick things up fast, dontcha?" the male chuckled jovially, then dropped the accent as if he couldn't be bothered to keep it up. "The kids told me it didn't take much."

Luke closed his eyes as the tongues of hot anger-fuelled Darkness flickered against his skin at the memory.

_He would be damned if he let Wedge get hurt again._

He shook his head and drew in a harsh breath shakily through his nose, before he opened his eyes.

_Calm down. The man was just goading him._

"Leave Wedge out of this," Luke stated flatly.

"Oh, you earned your voice back? And you're making demands too, are you?" the voice asked, and Luke could _sense_ the sneer behind the tone. The male laughed maliciously, "You're learning _Initiate..._ " the voice trailed off.

"Luke..." Wedge spoke fearfully, his tired voice strained from constant pain.

"But you are not strong enough to challenge your Master _yet,_ " the imposter finished.

"LUKE!" Wedge yelped, and Luke whipped around.

_He was going to be too slow. Why was he so damn slow?!_

For a brief moment he saw Wedge held captive by a massive red-haired male, then the small light that they had been using abruptly shattered.

The room plunged into darkness, and the after-image glowed in his vision.

"LET HIM GO!" Luke shouted desperately, and the sound echoed around the chamber.

Silence.

"As you wish," the man's voice slipped through the blackness like a knife into flesh.

A sickeningly harsh snap cut through the silence, followed by the sound of a collapsing body.

_No._

"What did you do?" Luke asked weakly.

"You should have used your anger, boy. Apparently you've learned nothing," the male replied cruelly.

_NO._

Fury (lossdespairdenial) tore through him, and the Darkness keyed in on him like a krayt dragon to blood, nearly accosting him in its eagerness, and for once _Luke didn't care_.

_This wasn't real. None of this could be real. There was no kriffing way._

_This was just another nightmare._

His fingers tangled harshly in his hair as tears ran down his face, and he _laughed._

_He was going to kill that man._

"Going to have to catch me first, Initiate," the man taunted, but even in the pitch black of the room Luke found that he could easily latched onto the man's location now. He had become so attuned to the Darkness that it was almost like changing com-channels, because suddenly he could sense the constant pulse of Darkness that the planet was giving off.

_In the stones, the sand, the metal, the AIR_

It really was no wonder he had been having difficulty. The Darkness here must cloud _everything._

_And it writhed around the imposter._

Luke lunged for the man, subconsciously augmenting his movements at the Darkness' goading, but even so, the much larger male side-stepped him smoothly.

The man's laughter echoed in the dark room, "You're going to have to do better than that. If only Kas'im were here, he'd teach you a thing or two about technique."

Luke scowled, "Shut up murderer."

At this the male burst out laughing, and for once he actually sounded truly amused, "I've been called many things boy, but murderer and killer were always the most boring. My favourite was always The Marauder."

_"I can see why The Marauder likes you."_

Luke's fists tightened as he sensed the man's pride in his own violent nature. He wanted to punch in the supposed "Marauder's" smugly amused face so badly he could almost taste it, and he half imagined that he could hear the Darkness sigh wistfully at the thought.

For once, they were in complete agreement.

Luke shot after the man, and the man dodged again, though this time by a narrower margin.

_Kill. Kill, kill, KILL the Force-damned murderer._

Luke followed the presence of the man doggedly, growing closer with each attempt as the Darkness sang through his veins and howled against his skin.

His fist connected with a crunch, and instead of feeling sickened as his robotic fist forced its way into the chest cavity of the man who called himself "Marauder," he felt satisfaction.

_Revenge._

A laugh wheezed its way out of The Marauder, "It took you long enough." Sickly golden irises glowed against the darkness as they bore into Luke's, "If only you could see your eyes right now."

Luke's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"The colour of resolve."

The Force shifted wildly, and then the room was lit by torches. Luke squinted as he was nearly blinded, then looked in morbid curiosity at his handiwork.

His stomach plummeted, and he was almost sick all over again.

 _What._  
_In._  
_The.  
_ _HELLS._

Somehow. Some-kriffing-how, the body pinned against the wall by his fist had a sling around its bloody and misshapen arm, and a snapped neck, and –

_There was no karking way in all of the Universe or its hells that this could POSSIBLY be Wedge._

The heat in his body drained until he was _almost_ cold again - and there was no way that the Darkness would ever feel completely cold to him ever again, because…

_He was a monster._

With a gentleness that felt like cruel mockery, he lowered his wing-man's broken body to the ground and withdrew his hand before he moved back and sat on his haunches.

_Was this even real? So much of this place had been confusing..._

His hands twitched, then rose and twisted into his hair, staining it with red clumps as he stared blankly at the floor, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

_He didn't deserve to cry…_

"Commander Skywalker?" a familiar voice called, sounding wary.

Luke turned uncertainly, and then cringed when he saw most of Rogue squadron, and several others from the mission standing in the entrance of the room, "Hobbie..."

_When had they gotten there?_

"Is that... is that Wedge?" the young male asked hesitantly, sounding very much like he didn't want his suspicions confirmed.

Luke tensed involuntarily, and then nodded.

The group inhaled sharply, and Luke heard several of them curse, before Hobbie spoke again, "What... what happened?"

Luke wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. He didn't want to talk about that.

"'e has blood all over 'im. Tha conclusion seems obvious enough tah me," another voice spoke, and Luke felt a spark of anger that quickly blossomed into rage. "What do ye have to say fer yerself Lieutenant Commander Skywalker?" the voice of the Captain's imposter demanded.

Luke shook his head furiously, "It wasn't me."

The man clicked his tongue in a patronizing manner, "Interestin', seein' as I have it on good authority that yer current fightin' style leaves exactly this sort o' injury. Not quite as elegant as one o' them laser swords, but just as easy tah identify, yeah?"

Luke tensed angrily and muttered darkly to himself.

"What? Didn' hear ya, lad," the man said with a shit-eating grin that no one but Luke saw, because they were all looking at him with a mixture of expressions.

"I said," Luke bit out, as he stood unsteadily, his hands twitching as the Dark Side writhed around him, "It. Should. Have. Been. _You._ "

Luke lunged for the man, pushing past several of his comrades, before he wrapped his hands around the male's throat in triumph, "You'll pay," he practically snarled.

The man's eyes glinted in amusement, before his face contorted into a mimicry of terror as he yelped, "What's gotten into ya? Let me go! Help!"

Suddenly Luke was being grabbed at by anyone close enough to reach, and Luke howled in anger, "He's a fake! THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT!"

"Stop him!"

"Skywalker!"

"Let him go, damn it!"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"You _did_ kill Wedge, didn't you?"

"How could you?!"

"Murderer!"

"Shut up! You don't know anything!" Luke hissed dangerously.

_Why wouldn't they believe him?_

_Were they in on this?_

Luke froze momentarily at the thought, then latched onto it. There was no other explanation.

"Traitors," he growled, and with that the Force exploded away from him, flinging everyone away in a replication of the small bodies flying from him earlier, only this time he only felt satisfaction.

 _"Traitors are enemies,"_ the Force seemed to whisper soothingly, _"and enemies don't deserve pity or guilt."_

Luke ignored the sounds of collapsing bodies, and refocused on the male, only to be met with a triumphant grin, "You know, I was hesitant to listen to that bitch Maru, given her past, but apparently she _finally_ got over her stupid reservations." He laughed, "I was never very good at turning Light Siders, but I knew she had the potential. Annoyingly smart that one, and _very_ good at reading and manipulating people."

Luke felt a shift in the Force, and with it, the man's form began to change. Luke's grip weakened as the man's neck grew wider along with the rest of his frame, and Luke found himself with a tenuous grip on the now much taller and massive red-headed male that he had seen for less than a handful of seconds.

_Imposter indeed._

"I knew it," Luke hissed victoriously, and readjusted his hands, so that his fingers were digging into the sides of The Marauder's neck despite their obvious height difference. His robotic hand would be strong enough for _this_ , "I _knew_ you were a fake."

The man huffed out a laugh, "Ah, but did you know _they_ were fake? Just look around you, Initiate."

Luke twitched uncomfortably at the label the man insisted on applying to him and glanced around the room warily, expecting a repeat of what had happened earlier with the younglings, but...

"Well... most of them were fakes anyway," Luke distantly felt the man shrug as death echoes abruptly crashed into him, apparently suppressed until that moment. Feeling nauseous, he looked at three broken bodies that he vaguely recognized from the ground troops, as the large man continued, "Of course, they were all being controlled, so their reactions were fake, but you seemed willing enough to dispose of them at the time, so I guess it can't be too much of a loss," he said with a sly grin.

_No. What had he –_

The Marauder continued, cutting through Luke's thoughts with a condescending smile, "You'll also be happy to know that your wing-man was never in any danger. We used one of your dead comrades from your fight with the clones as the foundation, and Maru's been busy projecting an illusion over them. Illusions have actually become one of her specialties since she's fallen, along with concealing Force activity."

_Fake._

_Relief swept through Luke, but it was immediately quashed, because if everything that had happened to Wedge was fake, and the people he had killed were being controlled… then what had he been fighting for? He had allowed himself to listen to the call of the Darkness (had killed his own comrades) for nothing._

Luke felt numb. He couldn't even find the willpower to be angry about being tricked, and coldness started to sink back into his bones.

The air around Luke flickered, and suddenly he was surrounded by at several hundred beings standing in militant lines; some wearing mining equipment, some wearing dark training clothing and ceremonial robes, and some wearing the far more familiar winter-wear of those that had come on the mission with him. Another flicker and he was walled in by clones, and hit by a wave of that familiar raw hate that he had felt before, only this time he could easily identify it as The Marauder's.

Like an adult with a youngling, The Marauder pried Luke's wavering grip free from his person, "I see you've lost your resolve, Initiate. That's pretty dangerous this close to the source of the Nexus. Allow me to rekindle it." He gestured around, "All of the people that you came here with are in this group, but not all of them look like who they are. _If_ you willingly kill half of the group, the ones that survive will go free. Most will not fight back. If you do _not_ do this," he grinned, "I will kill every last one of them for you."

The anger flowed back in as if it had never left, and with it came that glorious warmth.

Yes, he was angry at the man, and the situation, but mostly he was just angry at himself; at his own pathetic weakness.

_There was no way to beat the man. He didn't even know how much of this was REAL!_

_But... if there really WAS a chance to save some of them..._

_The Darkness pointed out soothingly that it wouldn't be the first time he had been forced to do something terrible to save others._

Luke stood shakily and stepped forward as the clones watched him passively, with their helmets secured under their arms. He could feel The Marauder's hatred pouring off of them in waves, and he smiled grimly. These, at least, were not his people.

_The people that he had just willingly tried to kill._

The hatred was too obvious compared to the rest of the beings in the room, which felt clearly neutral; that had to mean that The Marauder's control wasn't as good as the woman he called Maru, and with so little control, there was no way they were also under an illusion. These, he could kill without guilt.

He forced himself not to think about what he would do once he finished with the clones, and the Force hummed under his skin in anticipation.

He hoped they at least fought back.

_Don't think. Just move._

Adrenaline pulsed through him and he erupted into motion. Much to his relief, they _did_ fight back and he settled into a rhythm that was similar to the one with Irys when they first arrived on the planet.

Bodies fell around him, and the amount of power he felt surging through him was hypnotic – he wanted more.

Without thought, he turned toward the main group once the final clone hit the floor, and he began to move lithely over the corpses that covered the ground, as the Darkness resonated within him.

_Don't think. Just MOVE._

"LUKE!" quite possibly the only voice that might have reached him in that moment called out desperately. A voice that shouldn't have been there.

"L... Leia?" Luke asked in confusion, as his mind floundered wildly in an attempt to catch up. He turned in the direction of the voice, and then flinched at her familiar soft features.

"This isn't the way, Luke," she said, with an expression so full of sorrow that Luke wanted to curl in on himself.

_But..._

"You should understand Leia! I don't have a choice," he insisted as he shifted uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. "I don't ever seem to."

Her expression softened, "Of course you have a choi–"

"What do you think you're doing, Maru?" the furious voice of The Marauder cut across the large room flatly.

Leia flinched, before her expression firmed, "Stopping you, like I should have done a long time ago." Her form flickered, and Luke found himself staring at a much less bedraggled, but still recognizable blonde female with grey eyes. "Luke. I know I've given you no reason to trust me, but you've got to listen. I can't keep him bound for much longer."

Luke looked away from her briefly and saw the massive red-haired male straining against something invisible, his eyes that vile shade of yellow, and his veins standing out from exertion. Luke immediately turned back to the woman, desperate for a solution, "What do I do?"

She seemed to relax marginally at his acceptance, "On the far end of the room is a Sith holocron that I'm currently concealing. A second, far more condensed Nexus was bound to it so that it could be transported. It was brought here before the cult's compound collapsed, and it is what has been strengthening the Nexus here to such a degree. You _must_ destroy it. It has taken over this place, and controls everything." She grimaced, "Under normal circumstances, destroying a Sith's holocron would have been much easier if there had been a way to keep you from allowing the Darkness access to you, but as I said, it is no simple holocron anymore. I wasn't lying when I said you wouldn't survive without your anger here. Not with how untrained you are." At this comment she looked truly mournful, "I'm sorry for your loss. It is possible to recover from, but if you don't have a teacher..."

Luke shifted uncomfortably under her gaze as possessive tendrils of Darkness caressed and clung to him.

_Would Yoda even take him back now?_

She tensed, and Luke felt The Marauder's Force presence start to break free from whatever it was being restrained by. "Never mind, you need to go. I'm about to release my hold on everything here and focus on restraining him. Prepare yourself. The power of the Nexus will seem overwhelming. You will need your anger until the very last moment. To destroy the holocron you will have to let as much of it go as you can. I know it will be hard, but it is your only chance."

Luke stiffened, and then he nodded resolutely. Within moments the entire room flickered like a glitch in an old holo. The blonde female's form shifted, and then he was looking at Irys, who immediately collapsed to the floor gasping weakly. Time seemed to slow as he took in the dazed forms of the Alliance members dispersed across the large room now that the massive group had disappeared - and damn it, there really _were_ three dead bodies near the entrance to the massive room from the earlier confrontation.

Then the Darkness flared wildly, and it snatched his attention away from them entirely. His head snapped around to a previously inconspicuous end of the room as the temperature seemed to plummet. His teeth chattered from the sudden change.

_Not enough anger._

His eyes landed on a softly glowing triangular prism, with sides no bigger than his palm, that rested innocently on an altar. _This_ was the source of the Nexus?

Luke looked at The Marauder, and saw his gaze locked on the small pyramid with a look of obsessive greed that verged on lust in his glowing yellow eyes. Luke shuddered as the tendrils of darkness gouged at him like massive icy hooks.

_How could anyone WANT that?_

He shivered violently, and took a step forward, but...

_The clinging self-hatred wasn't enough. He could almost FEEL his body trying to shut down in shock._

... he missed the warmth, and not just because this was killing him.

For the first time Luke _deliberately_ reached further for that warmth - past the too-weak irritation and the nearly worthless frustration - and sank his mind into his carefully repressed anger like claws.

Heat almost seemed to explode gloriously within him, with how quickly it spread like a flame, and without thought he smiled.

_Who WOULDN'T want this?_

His mind seemed like a chain reaction as one thought lead to another, spiralling him downward into a whirlpool of fury, and it felt _wonderful._ The thick Darkness danced against his skin and sang through his thoughts.

_How strong was this "Maru" woman if she was able to contain this?_

Jealousy twisted through him.

 _"Focus, Luke,"_ Maru's voice echoed through the air. _"Remember, this THING is the source of everything that has gone wrong here."_

Luke stiffened irately at the reminder, then nodded in agreement. The Darkness scrambled against his skin unpleasantly, clearly displeased with what he was about to do, but it only succeeded in cementing in his mind the fact that it was just trying to manipulate him.

In what Luke felt was probably the height of irony, his anger at the Darkness only served to strengthen his connection with it, and he began to move toward the altar purposefully.

Within moments he stood before it, with his hand hovering over the misleadingly small anchor of the source, as he shook in barely contained rage.

"You don't want to do that, boy," The Marauder spoke, and the holocron's glow pulsed with his words.

Luke barked out a cold laugh, "Actually, I really do."

"Are you really stupid enough to throw away that much power?" the man demanded, and for a moment Luke doubted himself.

_To lose all of this power..._

The Darkness pulsed around him in pleasantly tantalizing waves.

Luke turned, and saw something akin to desperation in The Marauder's eyes. He wondered if that was as close as the man could come to fear, and somehow the thought decided him. Luke smiled with a cruelness that was foreign on his face, "If I can do _anything_ to so much as ruin your day after what you've done to me and my people, then I _will_."

The man was silent for little more than a beat, "Damn you, Maru, let me go!"

 _"Hurry, Luke,"_ her voice whispered against his ear as the man writhed even more wildly against whatever was restraining him

_Maybe he shouldn't have provoked the red-headed man..._

"You're just some weak-willed untrained brat, Initiate! You think you can challenge me?!" the massive man bellowed, and the disembodied female voice of Maru shrieked in agony as The Marauder burst free.

For a moment he stood, catching his breath as Luke stared in disbelief. "You... obviously... didn't learn... the first time," the man said ominously, and Luke darted his hand forward to snatch up the holocron. The man straightened and grinned, "That's okay. Give it your best shot. While you try to do that I'll just be killing off your people. Let's see you try and calm your emotions through that."

Anger churned in Luke's gut, and he cursed.

 _"Stop! You cannot fight him,"_ Maru's voice pleaded. _"He was only toying with you before. If you want to stop him, you must destroy the holocron!"_

Luke's hands tensed around the small device, and without much thought, his body half-turned to face the enemy, his muscles coiled and ready to launch him toward his enemy.

 _"Focus, Luke,"_ she begged, her voice taking on Leia's tone and timbre. _"Let go of as much of your anger as you can. It is the only way to save those people."_

Luke froze at the reminder of why he was doing this, then nodded resolutely and turned away again. He couldn't watch...

_Focus. Let it go._

Screams erupted behind him, and he ground his teeth together as tears began to slide down his cheeks against his will.

_It was the only way. Release everything into the Force._

The Darkness bucked against him as his grasp on his anger began to unclench. Sobs and chills wracked his body, and the cold began to tear into him.

_So cold. He missed the warmth._

_No. Let it go._

Agony and the shock-waves of death rolled across the room now that Maru was no longer hiding them, and Luke gasped and collapsed to his knees. He retched dryly and tasted stomach acid.

_Let it go, or it would never be over._

Luke closed his eyes and focused on ignoring his surroundings.

_This wasn't revenge. As much as part of him wanted it to be, it wasn't. This was for the sake of everyone. They were going to escape this place, and they were going to go back to Haven._

Anger continued to flicker across his mind, but it was slowly, _slowly_ , decreasing as his core temperature seemed to drop with it.

_He was going to return Leia's holo of her mother, and they were going to find a way to save Han. He couldn't afford to be dragged down in his own anger, because too many people were counting on him._

Eventually Luke reached a standstill. He gasped in pain against the chill, but even so, muted anger still wavered at the periphery of his thoughts. It would have to be good enough.

He tentatively reached for the Force, pleading for anything to answer his call, except the Darkness that was swiftly working to shut down his body.

Light came slowly, and tingled painfully against his fingertips, clearly doubtful of his intent, and tentative in its response.

"Please," he said, his voice almost non-existent.

The tingling in his fingertips increased agonizingly, like warmth after a too-close brush with frost-bite. There was none of the easy pleasantness that had come with the Darkness' warmth, but he clung to it anyway, for as long as he could.

_The holocron. It had to be destroyed._

Either it read his intent, or the Light simply agreed, because it radiated out of his fingers, before focusing sharply on the small prism.

"NO!" a rage-filled voice echoed from far away, but Luke could only focus on the small device as it pulsed with its own eerie light.

Something wildly angry tore into Luke. A crack appeared on the pyramid, and the glow began to seep out.

"Let the boy GO!" a horrified voice shrieked.

The cracks spread, and something equally wild, but not as angry slammed into Luke's being.

Luke collapsed in agony as the two voices echoed through his mind.

_"He's MINE."_

_"Let him go Kaox!_

_"NEVER!"_

_Why can't you JUST FINALLY DIE!?"_

The holocron reached its shattering point and exploded outward with a pulse, and the voices cut to silence abruptly.

Pain overwhelmed Luke, and he fell into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

 _ **AN:**_ _Now that we have some names to go with the faces of those mystery Force users I can elaborate some more about the setting for this entire Arc. Hooray!_

_Random Info (and Some History):_

_\- Both Maru and Kaox (The Marauder) are characters from the EU/Legends which I took and expanded on until they became what you see here. I plan to elaborate more on them later within the story, but feel free to hunt them down via google for more information if you're the impatient sort. ;P_

_\- Allyuen itself was a planet that was considered to be in the space policed by (some of you may have guessed it) The Brotherhood of Darkness around one-thousand years before the Battle at Yavin (BBY) during the last decade of what is known as the Galactic Republic's Dark Age._

_\- For those of you that don't know, The Brotherhood of Darkness was a group of Darksiders founded by the fallen Jedi "Master" (a rank given in poor judgement) Skere Kaan._

_At the time of its formation, the Galactic Republic was falling apart as large numbers of Sith Lords claimed territory across the Outer Rim, and had started to infringe on the Core Worlds. Interestingly enough this brought about the existence of Light Lords (something I didn't realize would be a thing given the Jedi's values). These Light Lords also claimed territories and were responsible for defending them from the Dark Lords, feudal style. It was in this climate that the Jedi extremist Kaan was given the title of Master by the Council for political reasons in an attempt to lessen his radical personality (sort of the opposite of Anakin). He (of course) left the Order, because he felt that it was at fault for being too passive in the war against the Sith Empire, and formed the Brotherhood out of like-minded followers. He then proceeded to trick the Jedi Council and the Republic into believing that the Brotherhood would take control of what was left of the Sith Empire in order to help reform the Republic (let us not forget that the enemy of our enemy is not necessarily our friend). Within a period of months the Brotherhood decimated the remains of the Sith Empire and took their territories._

_(Un)surprisingly the Brotherhood took their winnings then decided to screw the Republic over and declared war on it. After such a devious plot, the next step was to obviously declare himself a Dark Lord of the Sith (which he did), and he became known as The Dark One. As an ex-Jedi he came up what was considered an unconventional philosophy for the Sith, in which all were considered "equal" in the Brotherhood. By this, my understanding is that they had equal opportunity to rise in the ranks, thus following what was known as the "Rule of the Strong" (a philosophy that is pretty self-explanatory). He split power among himself and two others, and created a Sith Council, much like the Jedi equivalent, in which each member was given the title Dark Lord. Their ultimate evil plan? Take over the Galaxy and rule through a Dark Side Dictatorship (duh)._

_In order to reach this goal they started to create a massive army. To do this they opened academies across the galaxy to train Force-sensitives, and non-sensitives (though the ones incapable of using the Force were infantry aka cannon-fodder). After nine years they managed to accumulate over twenty thousand Sith (like dayum, there used to be a lot of Force sensitive people). Their opposition created The Army of Light (apparently way back when, the Jedi were far less the pacifists that they eventually became), led by Jedi battlemaster (and Light Lord) Hoth (how familiar). Needless to say, epic long-winded battles ensued, and eventually something had to give._

_Enter former Koribban acolyte Bane (yep, that guy), who did what Sith do best, and betrayed everyone through a bit of trickery. After having one of his plans left incomplete because of Kaan's over-confidence (resulting in a weak victory in a battle), Bane decided the leadership and philosophy of the Brotherhood were too weak. As it turns out he really wasn't wrong, because there was apparently a LOT of in-fighting (as is pretty typical for people that are obsessed with power). He convinced a now very paranoid and nearly insane (but still overly confident) Kaan to use a plan that ended up literally blowing up in everyone's face (and by that I mean it killed virtually all of both armies by sucking out their Force presence and locking it in a void)._

_From there Darth Bane decided to implement "The Rule of Two," which is the legacy we find ourselves dealing with by the time period of the movies. As far as successful longevity, this philosophy worked much better, but it is not what Luke found himself dealing with in the caves of Allyuen… because the Sith Lord Kaox Krul was a loyal (and very powerful) member of the Brotherhood (an extra little tidbit for the people that sat through all of that to make it easier to look him up)._


	15. Perception

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them._

Perception

Luke awoke.

_Regaining consciousness in unknown places was REALLY starting to get old._

He looked around in confusion, but didn't see anything aside from scattered beams of light in a dark room. Warily he shifted so that he could roll onto his side, a move he immediately regretted. His nerve endings had apparently been waiting for him to move even the slightest bit, because now the centre of his chest felt like it was being seared. He hissed as he prepared to wait out the agony that pulsed through him in waves, but just as abruptly as it had begun it stopped. Luke let out a gust of air in relief before he attempted to move again, though this time he was much more hesitant. Instead of any pain from his chest though, this time the side of his head throbbed unexpectedly. He reached up delicately and touched the tender spot on the side of his head in confusion.

_Wasn't that where he had been hit in initial the ambush? Had he been injured again?_

After several ginger movements, he was able to stand easily enough, so without much hesitation he made his way over to one of the sources of light.

It was one of the Alliance members' portable lamps.

Suddenly wary of what he would find, he slowly picked up the light and shone it around him, revealing several visibly uninjured Alliance members. He took off one of his gloves before he held his hand under the closest one's nose, and to his relief he felt soft breaths. Luke stepped back and shone the light around him again, looking for the exit to the throne room, but...

His light settled on a large and very familiar blast-door.

_What in the HELLS?_

"Bravo Group, status check," the voice of the Lieutenant from the ground troops crackled through Luke's comlink with a hint of disguised worry, startling Luke. His hand clapped to his ear searchingly.

_How did he get his comlink back?_

Sounds of discomfort and confusion began to echo around the large room as the rest of the group regained consciousness. Luke looked around the poorly lit space in bewilderment, "What..."

_If his missing comlink was back then…_

Luke frantically worked to pull up his numerous sleeves - which didn't seem quite so necessary now - until he could see his chronometer, and for a moment he simply stared at the innocently shining numbers.

_The dark haired man beamed and lunged forward to wrap Luke into a hug, "Oh man, it's good to see your face! Where have you been?! We were looking all over for days!"_

Only minutes had passed since the ambush.

_How much had even been real?!_

Disbelief and frustration pulsed through him, but the addictive warmth he had come to expect with it didn't come.

To his horror, disappointment washed through him.

_Oh no..._

"Bravo Group, what is your status?" the Lieutenant demanded again.

Irys' voice cut across the room hoarsely, professional despite its weakness, "There was some sort of ambush, Sir. We were about to do a headcount to make sure everyone is still here."

"Clear," the Lieutenant responded shortly.

Irys sighed weakly, "Commander Skywalker, are you there?"

_Was THIS even real? For all he knew he was still in that room trying uselessly to complete an impossible task as everyone was killed off._

Anger at his own weakness snaked through him, and this time he felt the barest tingles of warmth.

"Commander?" Irys asked again, drawing his attention away from himself.

He grit his teeth.

_At this point, what did it even matter what was real? It didn't change his yearning for the absent warmth._

"I'm here," he snapped irritably.

"Oh good," she said, sounding oddly relieved despite his attitude. "If you could start a count?" she added, her tone the most hesitant he had ever heard from her.

_Guilt. Why had he taken his frustration out on her?_

Luke shook his head and refocused on what was going on around him. "One. I've got a head injury," he projected with a professionalism he didn't feel. Irys followed suit with 'two,' and a short explanation that she felt weak. The rest of the group continued on in sequence with similar statuses to Irys save for a few minor injuries.

Hope rose in him as the numbers increased, but much to his discomfort they came up one short.

The female "guide" was gone, and he wasn't surprised.

_So that much had been real._

"It's the guide," Luke bit out flatly. "I'm pretty sure she attacked me," he added.

_Not a lie, but certainly not everything he knew._

"Okay," Irys responded calmly, before she keyed up on their comlink. "Bravo to Base."

"Go ahead for the Base, I'll relay the message," a different voice answered, and Luke tensed sharply in disbelief.

_Wedge._

"Everyone is accounted for except for the guide. The Commander says he thinks she was part of the ambush. There may be nothing worth finding down here," Irys explained. "None of our injuries appear to be life-threatening, but everyone appears to be weak. We may have been hit with some sort of knock-out gas."

_Was Wedge REALLY alive?_

The com was silent for a few moments, before Luke's wingman spoke again, and relief swept through Luke, "Start making your way back here. The directions she gave you were probably fake, and several of our people back at the base have gone missing. Alpha group appears to have made it safely to the communications room, and are working on breaching its security door."

"Yes, sir," Irys responded, and then turned to address the group. "You heard him. Pull yourselves together as quickly as you can so we can get back to the others."

A smattering of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" echoed in the large room, before she made her way over to Luke. Her eyes flashed the eerie green of a nocturnal being as she passed several of the scattered lights,

Luke looked at her intently as a thought tugged at him, "How well can you see in here?"

She grimaced, "Well enough, but the overhead lights they turned on were probably twice as bad for me because of it."

Luke frowned, "Did you see who else might have been part of the ambush before the lights turned on?"

She shook her head, "No. The people in our group were the only ones I could see."

_A direct answer given without even the slightest hesitation that she had even elaborated on…_

_The truth then._

Luke's frown deepened; this was more proof that something abnormal had happened.

_How much had been real!?_

Luke twitched in frustration, before returned his attention Irys as she spoke.

"Do you think you can get that blast-door open, Skywalker?" she questioned thoughtfully as she looked at barrier that stood between them and their way back.

He followed her gaze to the massive door and frowned distractedly, "I'll have to take a look at the panel. Maru may have sabotaged it."

"Maru?" Irys asked, her sharp eyes searching his in the dark.

Luke suppressed his instinctive cringe at the slip so that it was little more than a twitch. Knowing the woman she had probably noticed anyway, but she didn't say anything. Instead she waited patiently for him to answer. He nodded in response, "That's what the guide went by."

"That's not what she introduced herself as," Irys responded with a piercing look.

Luke shrugged uncomfortably and turned away to start toward the blast-door.

Irys placed her clawed hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face her, "Do you know what's happening here?"

Luke huffed out a single laugh, "No." Her concerned expression turned doubtful, and he began to laugh harder as he shook his head, "Seriously. I don't have a _damn_ clue what's going on here."

He turned again to make his way toward the blast-door's control panel, and this time she didn't stop him.

=-.-=

Crix Madine had never seen anything like it. One second there was a roiling sandstorm that had been going on for hours and was still going strong, the next, all of the sand stopped its wild movements and fell from the sky like a solid wall of granules.

_Completely and utterly unnatural._

"Sir, the sandstorm has stopped. What do we do?" one of the several officers monitoring the situation asked.

Crix ignored the unease that tried to crawl its way up his spine, "We have our orders. Until we have an idea of what's going on down there, we wait. The success of this mission now lies with them."

=-.-=

Wrenga Jixton, known mostly as Jix to the few that knew him personally (when he wasn't using an alias anyway), was having a _very_ shitty week. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how he looked at it) that was something that he was more than accustomed to dealing with.

Also fortunate, was that talking his way out of being held at the business end of a blaster was another one of the many things-he-had-done-so-many-times-that-they-had-become-skills.

"Easy there ma'am," he said with a tasteful bit of nervousness added to his Corellian drawl (it had been awhile since he had used the accent of his upbringing, but it came back to him as easily as breathing). "Why don't you just lower that," he pointed carefully with one finger, so as not to spook her by moving his raised hands, "and we can talk this through."

"Why should I?" she spat, her own accent heavy with distrust. Her finger inched toward the inside of the trigger guard, "You attacked us the moment we breached the door!"

"Woaaah, calm down. I thought you were with _those_ guys," he responded, adding a hint of desperation to his tone. If the planet hadn't been an ice cube he might have even been able to manage a nervous sweat to make it more authentic, but if his life were that easy he would have been a far blander individual.

"Those guys?" she asked, and the blaster finally dropped so that it was pointing at his gut instead of his face.

"Yeah! The freaky 'Return of the Clone Wars' guys," he exclaimed, and for once his bafflement was real, though he had to conceal his annoyance with the entire situation behind a nice layer of confusion.

_Kriffing CLONES. The things he got signed up for sometimes..._

Unsurprisingly the blaster dropped to point uselessly at the ground, "You survived their attack?" She glanced around at the strewn corpses of the group that had sent out the distress signal several days ago.

He grimaced and frowned, looking suitably ashamed of himself, "I'm not proud of it, but I hid. There were just too many of them. I dropped the security door once I knew they were gone."

_Frankly he was just glad it was cold enough that the bodies didn't have the full pungent smell corpses usually carried after having been expired for so many days._

Her eyes gave him a searching once over, then she nodded and holstered the blaster, "Okay. Do you know what's wrong with the equipment?"

He allowed himself to visibly relax and shook his head, "Not a clue. They said something about a capacitor, but that doesn't really mean anything to me. I was just here for security. Not that I did a very good job of it," he smiled in self-depreciation.

_Of course, they were going to find several important components ruined beyond repair, but at least they had bought his story. Killing them would have made the job much more annoying, and that would have put a damper on his day._

Jix watched, a deliberately unhelpful spectator, as he spoke easily of how absolutely grateful he was that they had come to rescue everyone. By the time they had given up on the communication console he had established himself as a well-meaning, if overly chatty, father of two that had left his wife and kids to fight the good fight against the currently acting governing body.

He also, in a rare moment that was almost as refreshing as it was adrenaline invoking, told the group his real name. Jix already knew there would be very little lying during this assignment after he had completed this introductory period, so he had to do what he could to establish his identity while he still safely could. After all, one does _not_ lie in the direct presence of a Force user unless absolutely necessary. It took far too much effort.

He was, of course, suitably morose when they realized the console was unsalvageable, but the group was happy to take him with them when they were told to regroup with the main forces.

_He loved it when a plan came together, even if it only happened after a mess of unwanted improvisation._

=-.-=

Luke trailed quietly behind the group, with Irys keeping pace, as they reached the bunk room where the main group was waiting. He hadn't said much once he had finally fixed the panel and gotten the group moving again.

_Fixing things had always been relaxing and easy for him, but now it seemed far more frustrating than it had ever been. Mistakes. Uncertainty where there used to be none. He just couldn't let himself go as easily as he had, and his temper lingered; not enough to be dangerous, but more than enough to disrupt his calm._

Irys had watched him with a hint of concern ever since she had woken up, and it had started to grate on his nerves until he wanted to snap at her just to get her to stop.

_Wouldn'tBeAbleToStareAnymoreWhenHe..._

He cut the increasingly exacerbated train of thought off (again) and mentally shook himself with disgust.

_He made himself sick._

He took in a deep breath as he passed through the remains of the entrance to the housing unit that they had blasted open to gain entry. The lingering smell of used explosives dragged him back to the present and grounded him just in time for Wedge to lunge forward and wrap Luke in a hug that was so similar to the one that he had been given by the fake Wedge that it was scary.

_How had they mimicked him so perfectly? Was it all in his head?_

"Oh man, I was worried sick when a bunch of people disappeared. I thought you might have too," Wedge said as he dragged the smaller form of an amused looking Irys into the hug as well.

"Do you always hug people you've only met recently?" she questioned with a sly smile.

Wedge laughed with a wink, "Not really, but this seemed like a good enough reason."

Something inside Luke shifted slightly at the sight of their easy interaction, and he found himself laughing in amusement, "Leave the woman alone Wedge, she's been through enough without dealing with your antics."

Wedge was about to respond when he was cut off by Hobbie as he walked up to join their group.

"Have you told them yet, Wedge?" the obviously distressed pilot asked – his eyes blood-shot and puffy.

Wedge's good humour immediately drained from his expression, and took Luke's short-lived amusement with it as he noticed the man's eyes were in a similar state, "Not yet. I was just glad to see them back in one piece."

Luke felt the older man's grip loosen, and he and Irys stepped back. "What happened, Wedge? You said people disappeared. Was it more of the guys from the base?"

Wedge shook his head, and a sinking feeling began to settle in Luke's gut, "It wasn't just the people from the base this time. Eleven more of them are gone, but eight of our people are gone too." Luke felt the blood drain from his face as the man continued, "I don't know what to tell you, man. One minute we were waiting for the next check-in, the next we all woke up and people were missing. Even the bodies of the ones that died are gone." He shook his head, and Luke felt sick, "It's freaking crazy. I thought the Lieutenant was going to lose it if you guys didn't answer his second call." The man swallowed dryly, and his eyes looked suspiciously glassy, "Two of the Rogues are gone, Luke. We were talking about going to look for them after everyone got back."

"Who?" Luke asked, his voice rough with suppressed emotion.

"Dixie and Sila Kott," Wedge said, his expression grave, and Luke cursed. Dixie had always been a kind, soft-spoken person, and the new addition Sila had seemed nice enough even if she was slightly stand-offish. He doubted they would have left the others willingly...

"You could find them with your Jedi powers, right?" Hobbie interjected with such honest innocence that Luke's breath hitched. "Like you did when we first got here?"

_The LAST thing he wanted to do right now was use the Force, but…_

"I can try," he said hesitantly, and the hope his words brought into their eyes made him feel nauseous.

Luke closed his eyes, and tried to shuffle everything that had happened to the side and calm himself. He ignored the others as best he could despite their distressingly high expectations, and after a few calming breaths, he reached tentatively for the Force. It responded warily as if it wasn't sure of his intentions, so he fought with his frustration and worked to calm himself further. Slowly, it began to respond more eagerly, but distantly Luke felt unsettled.

_It felt… different… like the dynamic he had with it had changed._

Hesitantly he tried to spread his senses away from himself, but at first he was met with resistance. Luke pleaded silently with the invisible energy, and after a moment he could feel it decide to allow him to do what he wanted. Uneasily he allowed his awareness to drift away from him. He was immediately struck by the Force presence of everyone in the crowded room and he flinched slightly, even as he worked to move past them.

Further and further he pushed, searching single-mindedly for anyone else that might have been nearby, but he found no one, and he was reaching the end of his range.

_Surely this wasn't the limit of his reach… The others were counting on him._

The hopeful expressions on Hobbie and Wedge's face seemed to haunt him, so he ground his teeth and tried harder. Frustration began to claw at his gut, as repeated attempts to look further failed. The Force caressed him, even as it felt like it was restraining him, and it rankled against his nerves. Instinctively he fought against the restrictive feeling.

_Why was it stopping him? Did it want him to fail?_

Without thought anger sparked in his chest, and he almost snarled aloud as he tore against what was holding him back until it was ripped away and replaced with…

_A distant part of him was horrified by realization._

… hot caresses from Dark flames. His eyelids fluttered at the unexpected rapture, and he breathed out a shuddering breath as his senses expanded until they encompass the entire facility; tunnels, and sunken cult ruins included. Vertigo rocked his frame from the sheer magnitude, but he refused to release his hold until he had checked everything.

_He refused to be that weak._

His anger helped to ground him, and he continued his search doggedly despite the growing sickness he felt from his increased perception.

_Nothing. Nothing. Nothingnothingnothing._

He nearly came to a halt when he finally felt _something_ different as he reached the level of the ruins (real, the ruins were _real_ ), but then he pushed ahead with determination. After several moments he realized what he felt was like a weaker version of the Nexus, but intermixed with it was something familiar. Like a hound on a scent, he tried to find the source of the familiar presence, but to his frustration he quickly realized it permeated everything in the ruins, intertwined with the Nexus' Dark, anchorless presence. He would need to look more closely.

Distantly he realized his body had collapsed into a kneeling position as the confusing mixture of addictive warmth and vertigo continued to rise with his relentless exertion, but he continued his efforts to narrow the source down anyway.

_Just a bit more and he would find the origin…_

Foreign hands lowered his body to the floor even as Luke fixated in on the familiar presence; no, presences, he corrected himself. He could feel hints of Dixie's shy personality, and Sila's slightly rough one mixed in with the ghosts of familiar presences that he only vaguely knew from the mission. He gently reached for Dixie's presence and tried to prize it away from the Nexus so that he could follow it to its source, but after a few gentle tugs he saw what the problem was just as the entire Nexus began to scream through the Force in reaction to what he had attempted.

The familiar presences were stretched beyond their limits and inextricably tangled and melded with the Nexus.

Ice seemed to flood through his veins as he realized the implications of what he had sensed. His disbelief merged with the sheer agony radiating out of the Nexus and snapped him back to his body like a rubber-band. He was barely able to stop himself from vomiting due to the intense whiplash as he gasped raggedly, and white noise roared through his ears.

_Dead. They were all dead, joined with the hundreds of deceased that made up the sprawling Nexus that was native to the planet, and without a focal-point to destroy he didn't think he could free them._

"Kriffing hells," he choked out. His eyes watered as he tried weakly to sit up, only to have numerous hands force him back down.

"Calm down, Skywalker," Irys' voice said soothingly, and distantly he felt what might have been real concern radiate off of her, before pain shot through him and he snatched his Force presence back to himself. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in concerned annoyance, "You've really overdone it. Come on, deep, slow breaths. Don't strain yourself."

She was right, he knew, but he shook his head again and forced himself to speak, "The others they're… they're…" he swallowed dryly, almost afraid to say it, but they needed to know. "They're dead."

He heard numerous gasps and curses, and it was like when he had thought he had killed Wedge all over again, only this time no one would think to accuse him. But…

_"Everything is real here, even if it's not. Remember that."_

It didn't take much to realize that all of the newly missing dead had been killed by The Marauder while he had been focused on destroying the holocron that housed the more powerful Nexus.

_(Not counting the three HE had killed)_

If he had only been able to destroy it faster… If he had only had better control over his emotions… If he hadn't been so weak…

_Maru had warned him. He should have known. Shouldn't have gotten his hopes up when he sensed those familiar presences._

"I'm sorry," he whispered weakly, as gentle hands finally helped him to sit up.

"It's not your fault," Wedge said in what he probably hoped was a calm voice.

Luke shook his head and looked down, "Yes it is, I should have–"

He was cut off by a claw-tipped finger as it hooked under his chin and forced him to meet green eyes, "Listen to me Skywalker. You did everything you could have possibly done in this situation. This is _not your fault_ , do you understand me?" she snapped firmly and something in her sharp intelligent eyes made him realize that somehow she understood that something outside of being ambushed had happened, and that he had been involved with it.

_And she still said it wasn't his fault._

Some of the knots in his tangled emotions loosened, and he took in a deep breath, before he nodded, "Yeah…"

"Good," she smiled, revealing something closer to her normal predatory smile. "We're going to start heading toward the bunk room closer to the exit. The base's communications console was a no-go, so we're going to wait out whatever's left of the sandstorm. Hopefully the tarps you had us put up held out, so we'll be able to contact the ' _Luck_ and get off of this planet."

"Okay," Luke nodded, and made to get up only to be pushed back into his seated position.

"Someone's going to have to carry you. There's no way you're walking after that stunt," Irys scolded.

Luke scowled in frustration, but nodded in acquiescence, "Fine."

"I can carry him," an unfamiliar male voice said in a very familiar Corellian accent.

"Good, we'll go get our stuff together," Irys said crisply, and gestured for the others to get moving.

Luke turned and looked up to see unfamiliar scruffy features framed by unwashed brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Luke frowned, "I don't remember you being with the group we found."

Something sparked in the man's deep brown eyes and he shook his head, "You've got a good memory. No, your people found me in the communications room." He frowned unhappily, "No one else survived."

Luke grimaced, "Ah. I don't think this mission is going to let us catch a break. At least you made it."

The man shrugged, looking uncomfortably, "I guess. I was just telling the people that found me that there were too many clones. I'm lucky I managed to stay out of it, but hiding isn't exactly noble."

"We all do things we aren't proud of to survive sometimes," Luke said in bitter understanding. He smiled wryly, "And since you're about to be carrying me, I guess I should introduce myself." He lifted his hand tiredly, "Lieutenant Commander Luke Skywalker at your service. If there's anything I can do for you when I'm not being treated like an invalid, let me know."

The man clasped his hand and shook it firmly, "Thank you, sir; I'll keep that in mind. My name's Wrenga Jixton, but people call me Jix." He smiled warmly and continued with a hint of friendly teasing in his tone, "I figure one syllable is easier to spit out when you're feeling lazy anyway, right?"

Luke snorted, "I suppose that's true enough." He looked around and noticed that most of the group was ready to go, "I guess there's no more putting it off…"

The man's features shifted into a crooked grin, "Looks like it." He bent down in front of Luke and as soon as Luke had his arms hooked securely around him, he felt the man's muscles shift under him as he hooked his arms under Luke's legs, and he rose to a standing position far more easily than Luke had anticipated.

Luke huffed out a tired laugh, "Stronger than you look."

The other man shrugged underneath Luke, shifting him until he was in a more comfortable position, "I blame the jacket. I don't think anyone could make this lumpy thing look good, but it's warm." As the man walked forward to join the group, he commented, "I can't wait to get back up in space on a proper ship. I think I would kill for a shower right now, I feel disgusting."

Already half asleep from exhaustion, Luke laughed deliriously, "I'll bet. You smell like the wrong end of a rancor."

"Hey! You didn't have to be so blunt about it!" The man exclaimed, and then muttered as an afterthought, "I don't think there's a good end of a rancor to smell anyway."

Luke snorted and yawned, "Sounds 'bout right."

As the group headed out, Luke was quickly lulled to sleep by Jix's smooth stride.

=-.-=

Jix felt the younger male slump against him, and adjusted him with well-practiced ease, careful not to jostle him awake. This wasn't the first time he'd had to carry someone and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but this really _had_ been a fortuitous turn of events. It had almost been too easy for him to convince the group to allow him to carry the young Commander after he had helped them deal with his collapse and almost seizure-like symptoms.

_Jix had watched passively to see what the others would do as the blonde's condition worsened, but at the first sign of a spasm panic had filled the eyes of the man the others called Wedge._

_Within moments the black-haired man had yanked the others back fearfully, "Don't touch him!"_

_Jix watched as they muttered amongst themselves until the spasming male dropped to his knees before he decided it was high time he spoke up, "What in the seven hells is going on here and why aren't you doing anything about it?"_

_The group looked at him, obviously startled by his input, but Wedge spoke up defensively, "He's a Jedi."_

_Jix blinked, feigning surprise, before he shook his head, "I don't give a nerf's ass, he's clearly having seizures!" He moved to try and at least lay the male on the floor, only to have Wedge grab his arm._

" _Don't," the man warned. "Last time he was having issues because of his powers, just touching him for a split-second shocked me hard enough to make my hand go numb for several minutes."_

_Jix scowled and looked at the shuddering male, then jerked his arm free from the male's grasp. He had seen this before, and it wasn't whatever the other man feared, "Whatever, if he shocks me he shocks me. I've still got to try."_

_Before any of the others could protest he moved forward and placed his hands on the blonde's shoulders without hesitation. Inwardly he snorted in amusement as the others couldn't help but gasp, then he focused on the shaking male and carefully lowered him to the ground. When he next saw their faces most of them looked ashamed. Only the single catlike being was watching him with a calculating expression (a bothan working hands-on with the Rebel Alliance was certainly different). He winked at her, and then turned back to check on the blonde as the seizure-like spasms finally subsided._

_Carefully he turned the now ashen-skinned male on his side into the recovery position. When he had him at the right angle, he placed his hand on the side of his head, as if to adjust it, and carefully slid his thumb across his eyelid enough to raise it._

_Jix's expression remained unchanged only due to years of practice. The male, barely older than a child, had the fading remnants of miniscule flecks of the nasty shade of yellow that he was VERY familiar with interspersed in his bright blue irises. He smoothly brushed the eyelid back down, and leaned back. If he hadn't known what to look for, he doubted he would have noticed, so small were the little flecks of unnatural colour, but this was something he hadn't been anticipating._

Before he had much time to think about any ramifications, the boy had jerked back into motion with a gasp before he had attempted to sit up, with his clear blue eyes wide and untainted. Now, not even twenty minutes later he was asleep on Jix's back. Jix smiled to himself. The young Skywalker was incredibly stubborn, and Jix knew that, had he wanted to, the Force user would have been able to stay awaked out of sheer willpower. If the younger man already felt safe enough to fall asleep riding on his back, then gaining his trust was going to be much easier than he had been warned.

All he had to do was make sure not to get caught in a lie, but that would be easy enough for him. After all, he knew how to deal with Force users.

It was his specialty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello again everyone! I hope you're enjoying yourself reading this as much as I am writing it (except editing… editing can suck on my left pinkie toe). As you can probably guess, we're about to shift gears as this arc comes to a close, so bear with me while I work on this next chapter. I need to make sure I know how I want to get where I'm going, since I'm not very good at structured outlining, and mostly just stick with mental (and somewhat nebulous) connect-the-plot. ^_^; Don't get me wrong, I have a general idea of what I want to happen and an order that I want it to happen in; I just leave a lot of room for maneuverability, and sometimes characters take my ideas and run off with them. I also want to make sure I don't forget any minute details I wanted to throw in at certain points.
> 
> Thanks~
> 
> \- Laz

**Author's Note:**

> If you find any mistakes (I won’t be surprised if you do) feel free to let me know. I’m currently un-beta’d and don’t have anyone aside from myself to proof-read. I’m also very aware of how much research has to go into Star Wars based fanfiction. I’m trying to be as accurate as I am able and I’ll have to hope it’s enough.


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